Kaleidoscope
by myownmind
Summary: Strange people have started popping up in Los Angeles. The firemen of Station 51 suddenly have their hands full with too many guests. This is a bit of an odd story, I just had to write it though.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own Emergency or any of the other shows I borrow characters from. They belong solely to their creators and the networks that have the rights to them. I just like to see what happens when I mix very different people together. I'm also a little odd and have a very active imagination._

_I hope you enjoy the story so far._

_Susanne_

_**Kaleidoscope**_

"What the hell?"

Nick Stokes stood on the sidewalk. Above him was a reasonably blue sky beyond the smog. The sun was a little past noon. A little shaky, Nick ran his right hand through his hair and took another look around.

He didn't recognize the street. It appeared to be a commercial area. Small shops ran up and down both sides of the double lane avenue. A few of the parking meters were occupied but there was something odd that the trained observer couldn't quite put his finger on it. Cars drove by as he stood stunned and watched.

Then it hit him. While the vehicles seemed to be relatively new for the most part, they were from the late sixties, early seventies. Fear began to creep through his system. The Level 3 CSI pulled his cell phone off of his belt and flipped it open. As he hit the speed dial number he wanted, he glanced at the signal intensity. There was none. The clock was blank as well.

People that passed the young man, wearing outlandish outfits, either studiously ignored him or watched him with open interest.

"Damn," Nick muttered under his breath. Fighting panic, he clipped the phone back onto his belt. His unit was nowhere to be seen and his kits were gone. Down the street was a phone booth. Wow, he couldn't remember the last time he'd noticed one of those. As casually as he could muster, the LVPD CSO walked down the street. Somehow, he'd wound up in California, at least that's what the license plates of the vehicles were telling him.

Just as he reached the phone booth and moved to go into it, Nick had to pause and let a man with a large afro, four wheeled roller skates and a huge ghetto blaster perched on his shoulder glide by. He had sweat bands on his wrists, short shorts and a neon coloured tank top on. If he'd been African American, he would have been a character from a bad seventies movie but even Caucasian he was hard to take.

Finally, Nick practically jumped into the relative safety of the glass walls. He reached into his back pocket to get to his wallet while he took a closer look at the phone. The fear got worse. There was no credit card slot. There were no buttons. Taking a steadying breath, Nick tried to not notice that his finger shook as he plunged it into the hole and began dialling the number for the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Grissom would be able to help him figure out what was going on.

"Hey, man. Are you all right?" a young man asked. He wore a tie-dyed t-shirt, ripped jeans and flip flops was standing outside the booth, looking in at him.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Nick responded as he listened to the line ring. He'd dialled collect and was waiting for the computer voice to ask for his name.

"Operator. How may I direct your call?" a female voice came over the line.

"What?" It slipped out before he could stop it. "Sorry. Yeah, I'm trying to reach the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Area code 406-555-7432." There was a pause.

"I'm sorry, sir. That number is not in service. Is there another number you'd like to try?" the operator asked. If she was becoming impatient Nick couldn't tell from her voice.

Within minutes they'd run through every phone number he could remember and those stored in his cell phone. None of them worked. Sweaty and more than a little shaky, Nick placed the phone back on the receiver. The world around him seemed to waver before his eyes.

Unsure of what else to do, the young CSI rested his head on the glass of the booth and rubbed at his eyes. Taking a few deep breaths, most of the vertigo passed.

There was a loud banging on the door, bringing Nick back to reality. He glanced at the woman standing outside the doors as he quickly opened them and slid out. She had really big hair and was wearing a bright orange polyester jumpsuit. As he passed by her, he was hit full force with strong perfume and noticed the while boots covering her feet. "Excuse me," he muttered, his slight Texan accent slipping through.

Rather than standing in the middle of the sidewalk, obstructing traffic, he moved over to the nearest wall and leaned against it. He tried to come up with a solution as he watched the menagerie pass by. Hoping against hope, he checked his cell phone again. Nothing.

"Beam me up, Scotty," a young guy chuckled as he walked by, pointing at the electronic device.

"They don't have those yet," a female voice stated from Nick's right. Startled, he turned toward the woman. She was a good six inches shorter than him but probably fifty pounds heavier. She was wearing black jeans, hikers and a fleece shirt. He saw the same fear reflected in her brown eyes behind the black wire-rimmed glasses. Trying to be casual, she had her back to the same brick wall and was scanning the pedestrians.

"Are you serious?" Nick asked.

"I'm afraid so," the woman answered. "When do we wake up?"

"Soon, I hope. I'm Nick Stokes." He offered the woman his hand.

"Rachel Dunn." Her grip was surprisingly strong as they shook hands. "How is this possible?"

"What exactly is 'this'?" Nick asked.

"It's the year 1972. As near as I can figure it's June 30th. What year should it be?" She wanted confirmation that she wasn't nuts.

"2008." Nick glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention to them. So far so good.

"Same here. Are you from here at least?" Rachel was trying to keep it together but she was getting closer to panicking with each passing minute. Finally, she put her head down and concentrated on breathing with her eyes closed.

"No, I'm from Las Vegas." Nick found it moderately comforting to have someone else in the same position. However, it didn't bring them any closer to a solution to their present situation.

"At least you're in the right country," Rachel breathed. She glanced up at the taller man beside her. "I'm from Canada and I don't do crowds well."

"Oh," was all that Nick could think to say.

"Do we go to the police or should we stay away from them? I've seen too many X-File episodes, I'm a little paranoid," Rachel stated. All she really wanted was for all this to end.

"I'm not sure that we have much of a choice," Nick replied, chuckling softly. Standing here wasn't helping them. Looking for inspiration, the young CSI glanced up and down the street. Moving toward them was a read truck with flashers on top. "Now's a good a time as any."

He stepped out into the street and flagged them down. As they pulled up along the curb, he read the stencilling on the side of the vehicle, Los Angeles County Rescue Squad 51. Two men in dark blue uniforms and blue shirts climbed out.

"What seems to be the problem?" the one with blond hair and blue eyes asked over the hood of the truck.

"We seem to be lost," was the first thing that came to mind. Somehow telling the man that they were 34 years out of date wasn't really going to help too much.

"We?" the man who'd climbed out of the passenger side asked.

"Yeah." Nick turned, expecting to find Rachel beside him but she wasn't there. Scared that the woman had vanished, he searched the immediate area with his eyes. Relief flowed through him when he spotted Rachel still standing against the shop wall. The second man, with dark hair and brown eyes, stood against the side of the vehicle with his arms crossed over his chest. His partner had joined him.

Hesitantly, Rachel crossed the sidewalk to join the little group. Old habits die hard, however, and she hung back along the outer edge of the group.

"Where are you supposed to be?" the blond man asked. The name tag on his shirt pocket said Fireman Roy DeSoto. The other man's name tag said Fireman John Gage.

"Um." Nick wasn't quite sure where to begin now that he had to explain the situation.

"What street are you looking for?" John asked. He was really beginning to wonder about the couple. Since it appeared this was going to take a while, he paused long enough to inform LA that they were currently unavailable.

"It's more like 'what city'," Rachel murmured.

"What was that?" Roy asked. He hadn't quite caught what the woman had said.

"We seem to be in the wrong city," Nick said, feeling that generalities were probably best.

"How did you get here?" John asked.

"Um." Nick glanced at Rachel for help but the woman just looked back at him. "We're not sure."

Fireman Roy DeSoto was getting a strange feeling about the duo. Their clothes seemed a bit off and so was their story. The fear and confusion he read in their eyes was very real. Leaving the two, he motioned his partner a short distance away so they could talk privately. "What do you make of this?" he asked.

"Something's definitely fishy," was his partner's reply.

"They think we're nuts," Rachel stated as the firemen moved away.

"I'm not sure they're wrong," Nick said.

"Well, let's take them into Rampart," Roy suggested. He didn't want to leave them wandering the streets. Who knew what would happen to them.

"Yeah, we can't leave them here," Johnny agreed.


	2. Chapter 2

_Sorry about the line below. I can't seem to make it go away._

_Susanne_

"Where are we going?" Nick asked. The four of them were crammed into the cab of Rescue 51, headed down the streets of Los Angeles. Beside him he was sure he could feel Rachel trembling. But otherwise she hadn't said a single word or showed any obvious signs of distress. He couldn't really blame her though. All of this seemed to be part of a bad dream.

"We're taking you to Rampart General Hospital," Roy replied.

"I'll bet they have a Psych Ward, right?" Rachel asked before she took the time to think about what she was saying.

"Yes, they do," Johnny stated. "Why, do you need it?"

"No," Nick answered for both of them. "We're quite aware of how this must seem."

"So why don't you tell us what's going on?" Roy asked.

"We don't know what's going on. Otherwise we'd tell you. I'm from Las Vegas and Rachel here is from Canada. Neither of us knows how we came to be here. We just are."

"How long have you been here?" Johnny asked, intrigued despite himself.

"Maybe an hour," Nick said.

"A day," Rachel added. She was careful to not look at any of the men. If she did there was a good chance she was going to panic. Never a particularly trusting person, Rachel had fairly well insulated herself from anyone whom she didn't consider family. The last day had been pure hell. Reaching out to Nick was the first thing she'd done since her arrival that hadn't been based entirely on instinct.

"You must be hungry," Roy stated into the silence.

"Luckily, it'll be a while before I starve," Rachel responded. She'd developed the self-depreciating remarks as a defence mechanism in a world obsessed with the perfect form.

Silence followed. Rachel realized she'd made the men uncomfortable. "Sorry, bad habit," she apologized.

"The cafeteria at the hospital isn't half bad," Johnny stated.

"Sounds great," Rachel fell silent for the rest of the trip. She didn't want to stick her foot any further into her mouth.

"What do we have here?" The firemen had parked their squad near the emergency entrance of Rampart General and ushered their charges inside. Before them stood a doctor of medium height with dark hair, blue eyes and a serious nature about him. What caused Nick and Rachel to exchange glances, however, were the wild pants he wore. They were polyester with wide strips of various shades of blue running through them.

"We're not really sure, Doc," Johnny admitted. "They seem to be confused and disorientated but they are clear and coherent."

"Well, that clears it up." The doctor turned to the nurse beside him. "Let's set them up in treatment room one and two."

Fear spiked through Rachel at the thought of being separated from Nick. In a moment she got a hole of herself, squared her shoulders and followed the nurse through the indicated door. Absently, she wondered how the woman kept the funny little nurse's hat on her head. Must be bobby pins, she decided.

"There's nothing wrong with me," Rachel stated as she stood in the middle of the room. There was no way they were going to get her to take her clothes off to be examined.

"We just want to make sure. Could you change into this gown?" The woman's name plate said Dixie McCall.

"I'd rather not," Rachel said. She was trying to be courteous. After all, it wasn't the nurse's fault she was here.

"It'll help Dr. Brackett examine you," Dixie said as she tried to steer the woman toward the examination table situated in the middle of the room.

"I don't need to be examined. There's nothing wrong with me," Rachel repeated.

"Then why did Johnny and Roy bring you here?" Dixie was beginning to lose patience with the woman. She stood in the middle of the room and looked like she was ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.

"It was either here or the police station. Look, there's nothing physically wrong with me. I know who I am, where I live and what I did yesterday. What I don't know is how I came to be in here in Los Angeles in 1972." Tired of trying to keep their situation secret, Rachel laid all her cards on the table.

"What do you mean 'in 1972'?" Dixie asked as she inched her way toward the phone. This may require a Psych consult after all.

"What's the date exactly?" Rachel asked. She was starting to feel like a caged animal. It was all she could to do to keep from pacing around the room. Instead, she stood and vibrated with nervous energy.

"June 27, 1972." Dixie was beginning to think that the woman must have suffered a blow to the head or some other form of cerebral trauma.

"I'm six years old," Rachel stated simply.

Unbelieving, Dixie gapped at the woman for a moment before she caught herself. The woman's age appeared to be about thirty. Clearly she was unbalanced.

"Now you know why I didn't tell the firemen my problem. If you'd like to check, I can give you my full name, address and my parents' names." Rachel was sure the nurse was going to throw her into a straight jacket any minute now.

There was a knock on the door. Doctor Bracket and the two firemen entered the room. Dr. Brackett glanced at his head nurse questioningly before turning his attention to the woman. She was looking like a trapped animal. Cautiously, he stepped away from the door to help her feel more at ease.

"What seems to be the problem?" Dr. Brackett asked.

"Where's Nick?" Rachel asked, hating herself for her weakness.

"He's right next door," Roy answered.

Dixie moved Dr. Brackett into the corner of the room to quietly discuss the situation.

"Do firemen usually drive such a small truck?" Rachel asked, trying to distract herself from the whispered conversation. She felt safe with the two men and really didn't want them to leave.

"We're paramedics," Roy replied. For emphasis, he held up the handi-talky in his left hand.

"Oh," was all Rachel could come up with. As casually as she could manage she looked around the treatment room. Some of the equipment was archaic. Some of it wasn't vastly different from what she was used to seeing in her own doctor's office. "What's going to happen now?"

"We're not sure," Roy admitted. "Is there anyone you can contact?"

"Not really. I'm afraid my family wouldn't recognize me." Rachel glanced at the doctor and nurse. Their conference continued.

The door opened and Nick walked in, closely followed by an older man. Some more of Rachel's fear disappaited. Nick strode right over to her, completely ignoring the other four people in the room.

"Rachel Dunn, this is Gil Grissom, my boss," Nick stated.

It took a moment for realization to sink in. Finally, tentatively, Rachel stepped forward and held out her hand. "Nice to meet you," she said as they shook hands. "Where did you find him?"

"Actually, he found me outside in the hallway. Grissom just got here." Now that Grissom was here, Nick was positive that they could figure out a solution that would get them all home. Dr. Gil Grissom was the smartest person the young CSI from Texas knew.

"Any ideas on getting us home?" Rachel had to ask. Now would be a very good time to find herself in her own bed.

"Not yet," Grissom answered with a crooked smile. He looked around at the other people occupying the room. "Nick has apprised me of the situation. While I don't currently have any answers or solutions, I would like to go to a place where I could spend some time going over the possibilities."

"The two of you could come to the Station house for the day but we don't have any extra beds for sleeping," Johnny suggested. The thought of Rachel coming as well had not even occurred to him.

"We stay together," Grissom stated. The look on his face and the tone of his voice brooked no argument. He didn't know much about the woman but he wasn't about to have them separated. If they were going to figure out a way home, they were going to have to do it together.

There was a momentary silence during which Rachel felt the need to crawl into a deep, dark hole. Dr. Brackett cleared his throat. "The Station house is probably the best solution for now. We'll have to come up with something else by tonight."

"All right, how do we get there?" Grissom asked.

"Wait a minute. We're going to have to clear this with Captain Stanley first," Roy interjected.

"I'll call him while Dixie makes arrangement to transport them," Dr. Brackett stated. He was almost relieved to have the trio taken off his hands. He had no idea what to do with them.

"This is highly irregular, Gage," Captain Stanley growled when the five of them arrived at Station 51. The firemen had driven their squad while the others had arrived in a cab.

"Why do you assume this is my fault?" Johnny asked in an injured tone.

"Roy would have had enough sense to not suggest this in the first place," Stanley stated. That out of his system, he turned his attention to the trio standing in the garage.

"Welcome to Station 51. Chet has just finished making diner. There's always room for a few more." The captain motioned the group into the common room. He waited for the trio to pass him before following them in. Johnny didn't even glance at his boss, knowing the dirty look he would receive.

The trio were quickly introduced to the rest of the firefighters sitting around the dinner table. Once they noticed the woman, though, they all immediately began to get to their feet. Feeling overwhelmed and scared, Rachel nodded at the man but she continued to hover in the background. Sensing her unease, Nick and Gil stayed close by as they took their seats at the table and began the meal.

The food was good, the conversation animated and for a while Rachel forgot her timidity. She laughed at Chet's jokes and enjoyed the atmosphere of the Station house. Once the meal was finished, Gil, Nick and 

Rachel were told to sit and not worry about the dishes. Gil and Nick began to discuss their situation while the firemen cleared the table and began to deal out cards.

"The loser has to do the dishes," Johnny explained.

"Usually, that would be Johnny," Mike Stoker added, smiling good-naturedly.

"Even when he makes up the game," Chet amended.

The younger fireman's face turned red as he blushed. Despite herself, Rachel laughed. Then the game began in earnest.


	3. Chapter 3

Time passed slowly. The two CSI's were deep in discussion, which Rachel helped with occasionally. Mostly, she spent her time with the firemen when they weren't on a run. When they were gone, she spent some of the time exploring the station. She had fun trying to figure out the purpose of some of the equipment she found.

"Any ideas?" Rachel asked Gil and Nick. She'd gone out the front door and had watched the traffic go by for a while. She quickly got bored of that and had wandered back into the common room.

"Nothing that really helps us," Nick responded. He was getting a headache trying to figure out all the options.

"Where did you appear?" Gil asked, still trying to collect as much data as he could.

"I honestly don't know," Rachel admitted. "I panicked when I realized where I was and what the date was. Where ever it was there were a lot of people."

"From what I can tell so far there isn't an obvious pattern to our appearances. All that we do have in common is when we're from," Gil stated.

One of the two phones on the wall began to ring. The Station was out with a structure fire in an industrial area. The three travellers were alone. Shrugging, Gil walked over to the phone and lifted the receiver. "Station 51," he stated.

"Battalion Chief Phillips. Who am I talking to?" the voice on the other end demanded.

"Gil Grissom," was the unaffected answer.

"Where is Captain Stanley?"

"The station is on a run. Shouldn't you know that?" The lack of proper communication shocked him.

"Have him call me the moment he returns," Chief Phillips stated.

"What should I tell him this is about?" Grissom asked. He was curious, he couldn't help himself.

"There are more of you." The line went dead as the Chief hung up.

There was the sound of motors as Grissom hung the phone back onto the cradle. He waited for the smoky, tired firemen to file in before informing Captain Stanley of the call. Hank Stanley left the kitchen immediately and made his way to the office.

"Did he say how many?" Johnny asked. Grissom had filled them in on the conversation.

"No," Grissom replied. The room fell silent as everyone waited for Hank to return. Rachel sat down beside Nick and Grissom. The idea of there being more travellers was both scary and comforting.

"All right," Captain Stanley waited until he was sure everyone was paying attention before continuing. "As you all ready know, more people have been appearing. At last count there were one hundred and fifty. These are just the ones we know about. Law enforcement and the hospitals are handling most of them. Our guests will remain here. Cots are being brought as we speak, along with five others that are also on their way from Rampart."

"We can't have a woman sleeping here!" Chet Kelly exclaimed, both shocked and dismayed.

"There's going to be more than one of them and yes, according to District we can. They are going to sleep in the common areas. The rest of the cots are going into the barracks. The showers and bathrooms will be labelled when the women are inside," Hank informed them. He wasn't particularly happy about the situation either but orders were orders.

"The good news is that with the added people, Division is going to have our meals brought in and a cleaning staff will come in every two days." The last was met with more enthusiasm that the beginning of his speech had been.

"Do you have any thoughts yet on why all of this is happening?" Rachel asked Grissom quietly. As much as she'd learned to trust the six men on shift, she really didn't look forward to spending the night. The thought of sleeping in a strange room with strange women gave her the creeps.

"No. So far nothing's plausible or possible." Grissom sympathized. He didn't much want to spend the night either.

"So much for wishful thinking," Rachel sighed.

Another fireman arrived, wearing his dress uniform and escorting five people into the common room. Rachel was instantly put off by the two women. She wasn't sure if it was jealousy because of their tall, willowy bodies or the haughty looks on their perfectly made up faces. Curious, she glanced at the men in the room. Johnny and Chet were practically drooling over the two. Captain Stanley, Roy and Marco were definitely affected by their attractive appearance. The only one that didn't respond outwardly was Mike Stoker. Hanging toward the back of the room, he watched with moderate interest but a stoic expression.

The three men that were also brought in were young, at least by Rachel's estimation. The youngest was the tallest, maybe six feet four inches. He had dark grey eyes, wavy brown hair and well worn clothes. The man standing directly beside him had pale blue eyes, close cropped dark blond hair and similar well worn clothing. They scanned the situation quickly but they were careful not to say anything.

The last man was of indeterminate age. He could have been anywhere between twenty to thirty five years old. He had a close brush cut that left little of his brown hair evident. He also had a close shaven 

beard. His pale blue eyes examined everyone in the room, assessing them as a threat. He was six feet tall with broad shoulders and a powerful physique. Just as Rachel was about to put him in her 'to be watched carefully' category, he coughed, long and hard.

"Hey, are you sick?" Johnny asked, always the paramedic.

"Just a little," as all Bob would say.

The Battalion Chief made quick introductions. The women were Samantha Cartwright and Holly Stephens. The men were Dean and Sam Winchester, brothers, and Bob Brown. Bob had a definite military air to him. The brothers were just as battle-hardened, especially Dean, but didn't appear to have the tight discipline of the other man. Samantha and Holly seemed like they'd be most comfortable in an upscale mall.

Suddenly Rachel felt very old. She knew that they figured she was about thirty but she was, in fact, forty. The only people in the room older than her were Grissom, the Battalion Chief and Captain Stanley.

The single firemen had descended on the women, talking and flirting. Shaking his head at his partner's eagerness, Roy made his way over to Rachel, Nick and Grissom. "How are you doing?" Roy asked as he sat down on a chair beside them.

"Okay," Rachel answered as the two men nodded their heads in agreement.

"Apparently there are people appearing all over Los Angeles. So far no one has any ideas or answers but they're working on it," he informed the trio. Fireman Roy DeSoto had been in the army and served tours in Vietnam. He recognized the shell-shocked look in the displaced people's eyes. So far, however, the trio had managed to keep it together and conduct themselves with grace and decorum. He appreciated that after spending time dealing with distraught family members at accident scenes. The senior paramedic shifted slightly in his chair as Bob Brown sat down beside him. The large man was trying desperately to cover just how sick he really was. Roy was concerned because he appeared to be pale and sweaty. Roy wasn't going to force him to seek medical attention. At least, not until he had to.

"We've been considering the possibilities but we haven't come up with anything yet either. Until all of the data is collected and collated, it'll be hard to reach any firm conclusions," Grissom stated. He liked the paramedic. For that matter, he liked all of the firemen of A shift. It was driving him crazy that he couldn't solve this problem though.

"What did you do before?" Roy realized that he'd never really asked the trio about their lives.

"Nick and I are criminalists, forensic scientists." Grissom nearly laughed at the expression on the paramedic's face. Roy had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. "We investigate crimes and process crime scenes."

"Oh." For a second there he thought they may have criminals in their midst. Realization hit the family man. They had no idea who these people were or what they were capable of. It was a sobering thought.

"What did you do, Rachel?" Nick asked. In all the time they'd spent together, the subject hadn't really come up.

"I work at a garden centre during the summer. I'm looking for something more permanent." Rachel didn't feel much like going through her whole life story. She had a hard enough time going through it in her own head when things got quiet.

"Are the summers long enough to grow plants in Canada?"Nick inquired his Texan drawl a bit more evident.

For a split second Rachel thought he was serious. Her hackles began to rise when she spotted the mischievous glint in the CSI's brown eyes.

"Well, we have to have something to do once our igloos melt," she shot back, grinning despite herself.

Nick laughed, as did Grissom. Roy just sort of looked a little bewildered, like he wasn't sure if they were serious or not. Unable to control themselves, the trio laughed the harder until Roy joined in. They would have been unable to stop any time soon, except Bob began to cough beside them.

"How bad is it?" Rachel asked. She had to lean forward to be seen around Roy once the man recovered himself.

"Not bad." The man looked her in the eye but she could tell from his pale complexion and the sweat building up that he was lying.

_He's fuzzy,_ sprang to her mind. "You don't want to go to the hospital. Is that why you're covering up?" she asked. The military air of the man made her though of Secret Service or Navy Seals. Watching TV had its benefits when your life would have been in a much smaller world otherwise.

Bob blinked. For the briefest moment she saw through his tough exterior. The need to give him a hug nearly overwhelmed her. "No," he managed. "No hospitals."

"Is it possible for you to treat him here?" Rachel asked Roy.

"I might be able to get Dr. Brackett to come here and examine him. He'll probably still want to admit him," Roy replied. Quietly, he caught hold of the man's wrist and took his pulse. It was fast and slightly thready.

"No hospitals," Bob grunted as yet another coughing jab took over.

Across the room the other two women glanced in Bob's direction, somewhat perturbed. Johnny also looked over. Right away he saw his partner taking the man's life signs and knew something was up. With regret, he excused himself from the ladies and headed over.

"Is there someplace he could lay down?" Grissom asked. For a person who worked at a greenhouse the woman was very observant and intuitive, especially for a Canadian. He was intrigued.

"Sure." By this time Johnny had joined them and the two paramedics helped the big man to his feet and toward the bunk area.


	4. Chapter 4

_Hello. I just wanted to apologize for the blatant stereotypes I created for the two women. It just made Rachel more likeable. In case you're not sure, Bob Brown is from The Unit, Gil Grissom and Nick Stokes are from CSI and Sam and Dean Winchester are from Supernatural. As always, I don't own any of the characters, they are the sole property of the individuals who created them. I just borrow them from time to time._

_Thanks for reading!_

_Susanne_

Once Bob was settled into one of the spare beds, Roy and Johnny set about getting the information theyd need to call Rampart and Doctor Brackett. Rachel showed up with a towel and wet face cloth. She helped the man take his shoes off and then lay down. "Take it easy. I don't think they're going to try to forcibly debrief us. At least not yet." Smiling reassuringly, Rachel placed the cloth on his forehead.

"Thank you," Bob muttered as his eyes fluttered shut.

"You're welcome," Rachel whispered.

Roy and Johnny took Bob's blood pressure, pulse, respiration and they listened to his lungs. Concern flashed through Roy. The boy was sick, very sick. He'd made his wishes known, however, and they couldn't take him to the hospital against his instructions. Wearily, he hooked up the biophone and called Rampart. "Rampart, this is Rescue 51," he said into the mouth piece.

There was a few moment pause, then the receiver crackled to life. "Rescue 51, this is Rampart." Roy recognized the female voice as Dixie McCall.

"Rampart. We have an approximately 25 year old man. He has a large, muscular build. His BP is 90 over 40. Respiration is 18 with rales and his pulse is 100 and thready. His skin is cold and clammy to the touch and he is sweating. He is here at the Station and is refusing to go to the hospital," the senior paramedic informed her.

"Stand by 51." Roy knew that Dixie was consulting with the nearest doctor as they waited. Absently, he watched as Rachel and Johnny made the man more comfortable by slipping off his jacket and sliding him under the sheet. Bob barely stirred under their ministrations, content that they weren't going to drug him or otherwise try to alter his thinking. For some reason, he felt safer having Rachel around. As he fell asleep, Bob decided it had to do with having sisters.

"51. Are you comfortable treating the patient on location?" Dr. Brackett's voice came over the biophone.

"So long as his condition remains stable or improves, Rampart." Roy was not at all confident of their ability to handle the man if his condition were to deteriorate further.

"Do you have the equipment available to take samples for blood work?" Dr. Brackett asked.

"Negative, Rampart," Roy replied. One of the other women had entered the bunk area. Casually, she walked over to Bob, running her hand lightly from his blanketed foot all the way up to his shoulder. The gesture made the senior paramedic vaguely uneasy.

"Poor baby," she purred.

Rachel was unceremoniously pushed out of the way as Samantha took the cloth from her and sat down on the bed beside Bob's head. Her face carefully neutral, Rachel left the room. Roy was going to call her back when Rampart came on the line. "51, I'm going to head over to the Station and conduct my own examination. I'll be there in fifteen minutes," Dr. Brackett informed Roy.

"10-4, Rampart. Rescue 51, out." Roy turned off the biophone. Johnny appreciated Samantha's presence but Roy didn't. There was something about her that was very hard and aggressive that he didn't like or trust.

"Dr. Brackett's on his way. He wants to check Bob over himself," Roy informed his partner.

"A doctor who makes house calls. I'm impressed," Samantha purred. As Roy watched, she began unbuttoning Bob's shirt under the pretence of washing him down. Mildly surprised, Johnny didn't initially try to stop her until she'd reached the button on his pants.

"Hey," Johnny warned, placing his hand over top of hers. "We don't need to take those off."

"Wouldn't he be more comfortable?" Samantha inquired, looking very innocent. It made Roy's skin crawl, both her expression and her tone of voice.

"Yeah, probably," Johnny replied. "But if anyone's going to undress him, it'll be Roy and I."

"Can't I watch?" Samantha had progressed to a full pout, complete with her lower lip sticking out.

"What?!" Johnny couldn't believe what he was hearing. It excited him and made him nervous at t he same time.

"I think you'd better leave," Roy suggested.

"You let that tub of lard in here." The woman clearly felt that her feelings were being disregarded.

"She was helping," Roy stated.

"And I'm not?" Samantha shot Roy her most dazzling smile to prove her point.

"No, you're not." The Captain had just entered the room, curious about what was transpiring. Roy seized on his superior's presence. "Cap, could you please take Miss Cartwright back to the common room?"

"Sure, Roy," Captain Stanley replied, looking from his senior paramedic to the young beauty. "Just as soon as you fill me in on the situation."

"Mr. Brown is ill. He refused to go to the hospital so Dr. Brackett is on his way here to examine him and order treatment. Miss Cartwright was inquiring about his health but now she needs to leave so we can make Mr. Brown more comfortable." Roy didn't like filling his Captain in on unfounded accusations. He just wanted the woman gone. Out of habit he'd slipped into professional mode.

"Do we need to be worried about it being contagious?" Captain Stanley trusted Roy to be good and thorough at his job. He trusted the blond haired man with his life under the direst circumstances.

"I don't believe so, sir. But we'll have to wait for the test results to be sure," Roy informed his superior.

"Well, we'll move us to the far end of the room, just in case."

"Yes, sir," Roy responded.

"Miss Cartwright?" Captain Stanley indicated that the woman should precede him out of the room. As graciously as she could, the woman left, followed by Hank Stanley.

"That woman makes me nervous," Roy stated as he turned his attention back to his patient.

"You've been married too long, Roy," Johnny replied, grinning. He couldn't believe that the woman intended or could cause them any physical injury.

"Maybe," was Roy's cryptic response.


	5. Chapter 5

A little put out, Rachel returned to the common room. She located an old paperback novel, sat down and began to read. As expected in a place where men lived and worked the novel was a war story. Nonetheless, she turned her attention to it with a vengeance.

"I wonder what's up her butt?" she heard Dean mutter to his brother. The two men were in a world of their own. Rachel had the feeling that so long as they had each other the brothers could handle anything. Still, she chose to ignore the statement.

"Don't know," Sam replied. He was standing beside the doorway, ready for a quick getaway, if necessary.

"Those other two are fine," Dean stated, eyeing up Holly.

"Yeah, if you like wolves in sheep's clothing," Sam replied.

"They're not that bad, Sam." There was some irritation in Dean's voice. Sam, his younger brother by 4 years, was far too serious. He was too hung up on a dead girlfriend to see the opportunity that was being presented to them.

"Yes, Dean. They are." Sam had all ready had his own run-in with the duo. While the proposition was probably something out of Dean's fantasies, Sam hadn't been interested. The girls had been hard to convince that 'no' meant 'no' however.

"Whatever you say, Sammy," Dean growled. He knew how much it drove his younger brother crazy to use that name. He did it just for that very reason.

"Don't call me 'Sammy'," Sam growled back.

"Is it a good book?" Grissom asked. It took several moments before Rachel realized the senior CSI was talking to her.

"It'll help kill time," Rachel replied, not bothering to look up. She knew she was being bitchy but she couldn't seem to help it at the moment.

Casually, Gil sat in the chair beside the woman. Clearly she was upset, even though she was trying hard to hide it, and he wanted to know why. "What happened?" he asked.

"Nothing." Rachel had read the last line three times and still had no idea what is said. Not to be deterred, she tried again.

"You're upset," Gil stated simply, keeping his voice low. Silently he waited until the woman felt like sharing. Samantha came into the room, closely followed by Captain Stanley.

"It's not important," Rachel finally said.

"If it upset you it had to have some importance," Gil countered.

Sighing, Rachel put the book down and turned to the older man. "In the grand scheme of things and given our present situation what happened is not important. As to my reaction to the said events, I'll get over it," she assured him. All ready she felt better. The fact that this stranger cared enough to ask was enough to dispel some of her loneliness and sense of isolation.

"Are you sure?" Gil couldn't resist asking.

"Yeah." To prove the point, Rachel flashed the forensic scientist a smile before returning to her book with renewed interest.

"Okay." Satisfied, Gil settled back in his chair and sat watching his new companions.

Fifteen minutes from the time Dr. Kelly Brackett had said he was leaving, the dark-haired doctor came striding into the station garage. "Where is the patient?" he asked Fireman Marco Lopez, who happened to be walking through.

"Bunk house," he replied, indicating the appropriate door.

"Thank you," Dr. Brackett replied. His medical bag firmly clutched in his hand, he headed through the door to find Johnny and Roy at the far end fussing over a man.

"How is he?" Dr. Brackett asked as he covered the distance with long strides.

"About the same," Roy replied, stepping out of the way.

Dr. Brackett took his time and carefully examined the young man. What he found concerned him. "What's his name?" he asked the two paramedics as he shook the patient's shoulder to wake him.

"Bob Brown," Johnny supplied. He and Roy hovered on the far side of the bed, waiting to be of assistance.

"Mr. Brown?" At first the man didn't respond at all. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, his blue eyes fluttered open and came to rest on Brackett's face hovering above him.

"Who are you?" Bob grated. He was confused and unable to reorder his thoughts.

"Dr. Kelly Brackett. I have examined you and must strongly suggest that you allow us to admit you to Rampart General Hospital," the doctor informed him.

"No." Bob was having an awful time keeping his eyes open, much less concentrating on the doctor's words. "No hospital."

"Where's Rachel?" Bob suddenly became aware of the woman's absence. Dr. Brackett glanced at the paramedics for an answer to what question. He had no idea who the man was talking about. As far as he knew the man was hallucinating.

"She had to leave while we undressed you," Roy hedged.

"Is she a nurse?" Dr. Brackett wanted to know. If she was that would change things considerably.

"She works at a greenhouse," Roy told him. It occurred to him that he had no idea if the woman had any formal training of any kind.

"Why does he think he needs her?" Dr. Brackett wanted to know.

"She convinced him to accept our help in the first place," Roy informed him.

"I see. Mr. Brown, as your physician I strongly urge you to accept my recommendation and allow us to admit you. You have high fever, congested lungs and the possibility of pneumonia."

"No hospital," Bob croaked as he gave into the overwhelming need to sleep. His eyes slammed shut.

"We could declare him unfit," Dr. Brackett suggested.

"I'm afraid he'll become combative and uncooperative if we force him. I'm afraid we'll prevent him from healing by aggravating him," Roy stated. "At least he'll sleep here."

Dr. Brackett considered the alternatives in his mind. Finally, he had to admit defeat. "All right, he'll remain here under your care as long as his condition doesn't deteriorate. If it does, I want him in an ambulance on his way to Rampart. Any questions?" Both paramedics shook their heads 'no'.

Impatiently, Dr. Brackett pulled two bottles out of his bag and presented them to Roy. "Penicillin to fight the infection, valium to help him sleep," Dr. Brackett rattled off the dosages before picking up the blood samples he'd taken when starting the IV and carefully placed them in his bag. One last look at his patient and Dr. Brackett left.


	6. Chapter 6

_I have to rate this chapter as Mature Content because of the scene in the shower. Thanks for continuing to read._

_Susanne_

Supper arrived. While not especially imaginative, the food definitely hit the spot. At one end of the table, Holly and Samantha twittered behind their hands as they watched every mouthful of food Rachel ate. Deliberately, the older woman ignored them but she didn't respond to anyone else either.

Grissom and the others were beginning to lose patience with the duo. The firemen as ever, stayed very courteous and attentive. Roy had chosen to stay with Bob while Johnny ate. He'd take his turn after his junior partner was done. He didn't want to leave the sick man alone.

As soon as decorum would allow, Rachel abandoned the table and headed for the bunk house. She wasn't sure how to handle the women's juvenile, prejudiced behaviour. Ignoring them didn't seem to be deterring them but she didn't want to sink to their level either. Sighing, she entered the room. "You should go to supper. I'll watch over him while you do," Rachel said to the younger man.

"I really shouldn't leave him. I need to monitor his life signs, Roy replied. He stood up from the chair situated beside Bob's bed and stretched his back.

"I can do that. Just leave me your stethoscope," Rachel replied.

"Are you sure?" Roy asked. The smell of food had been driving him nuts for the last half hour. He didn't expect the woman to take the patient's blood pressure, etc but he figured he'd be within shouting distance in case anything went wrong.

"I've had enough. Go. Eat. Relax for a while. I'll let you know if anything changes," she reassured him.

Roy hesitated for a few moments, looking at her closely. "All right," he finally said. "Thank you."

After all the time spent with the firemen and the others, Rachel quite enjoyed sitting quietly, watching over Bob while he slept. The silence was only broken by occasional peals of laughter from the common room and deep, chesty coughs that racked Bob's powerful body.

It had been a while, but Rachel was able to take Bob's blood pressure and then she listened to his chest. Even her limited knowledge told her that he wasn't improving but he also wasn't getting worse. Taking the ear buds out of her ears, Rachel glanced down at her sleeping charge. Bob looked so very young and vulnerable but he was still very fuzzy. His eyes flickered open and came to rest on her. "Hi," Rachel said, unsure of what else to say.

"I was hoping it was all a dream," the younger man breathed. He tried to sit up but didn't have the strength and fell back down.

"You and me both. You'd better get more sleep. Unless you're hungry, they delivered food a little while ago."

"Yeah, I'm starved," Bob responded.

"Hang tight, I'll be right back."

"Anything wrong?" Roy asked when Rachel walked into the common room. They had finished eating and were having a cup of coffee before clearing off the table.

"No. He woke up and he's hungry. Is there any of that soup left?" Rachel asked.

"It's probably for her," Samantha stated. Holly nodded agreement. They began giggling again.

"Bob's on an IV. He's not supposed to have any food orally," Johnny said. He glanced at his partner for confirmation.

"Johnny's right," Roy agreed.

"He's hungry. The best way to build up his strength is to feed him. What would you like me to do?" Rachel asked. She was frustrated. Between the 'Barbie twins' immature behaviour and trying to get Bob what he asked for, she wasn't sure what else to do.

"Okay," Roy said, standing up. "Try giving him some of the soup and we'll see what happens."

Ignoring the still laughing twins, Rachel spooned some of the soup into a bowl. She found a spoon and headed back out of the room. She knew her face had turned red but there wasn't anything she could do about it.

"Are all women like those two?" Roy asked. He and Johnny had followed Rachel as she made her way to the bunk house. It was really bothering the older paramedic the way the two women were acting toward Rachel. There was an almost continual string of comments from the two through the remainder of the meal.

"No, not really. We're all supposed to look like them, though. Those of us who don't conform to that image tend to be frowned upon." Rachel had propped Bob up and was carefully spooning soup into him. She was careful to not look at anyone, including her patient.

"That doesn't seem right. They say some really awful things," Roy continued. He knew the woman was overweight but that didn't give the women the right to ridicule her. From what he'd seen, Rachel hadn't done anything to deserve their hatred.

"Oh, well." Rachel didn't feel up to continuing the discussion and was hoping Roy would take the hint and drop it.

"How are you feeling?" Roy asked as he turned his attention to Bob.

"Better," Bob rasped. He wasn't about to tell the man that he felt as weak as a newborn kitten. The soup sure tasted good but he had to be careful to not choke on it. Beside him, Rachel shifted in her chair. Absently, she wiped his chin and set the bowl down on the floor by her feet.

"How's his vitals been?" Johnny asked. He didn't really expect a greenhouse worker to know but he didn't have anything else to say to the woman.

Rather than answer, Rachel handed the dark-haired paramedic a slip of paper. Curious, John Gage held it up and examined it. Written in a neat script were the man's blood pressure, pulse and respirations. Written beside them was the time when she'd taken them. If the numbers were right, the man had remained stable.

"You did this?" Johnny asked as he handed the paper over to his partner.

"I haven't always worked at a greenhouse," was all Rachel would say. Satisfied that he was going to be watched over, Rachel decided it was time for her to leave. The room suddenly seemed small with the two paramedics standing around. As casually as she could manage, Rachel left the room. She walked through the long garage where the squad and engine sat and headed out the side door. She had a sudden need for some fresh air.

Gil and Nick had spent the entire day trying to come up with options or explanations. Frustrated by their lack of progress and their lack of appropriate equipment, Gil wandered out into the garage. Pacing occasionally helped him to think. Besides he'd had enough of the two women. They were really beginning to grate on his nerves. Young and available, Nick had at first been intrigued but he was also a nice guy and quickly tired of their attitudes. At the moment the young CSI was pouring over some books he'd found to try to better understand their situation.

Sighing with exhaustion and more than a little frustration, Gil headed for the side door. He suddenly felt the need to get out of the building. Stepping through the door, he became aware of a presence off to his right. He was just about to speak when the chimes went off behind him. The station was being called to a traffic accident with injuries.

The garage door rumbled open, spilling light onto the driveway. The sirens wailed as the two vehicles rolled out and turned left. Quickly the sound of the two sirens disappeared into the night. Behind Gil, the garage door was still open. He assumed that they didn't have remote garage door openers yet.

"Are you all right?" Gil asked into the night. He'd noticed Rachel hovering at the other side of the driveway. Rather than surprise her, he spoke to let her know he was there.

"I feel like I could scream. I miss my quiet town, my family and my cats. I miss not being mocked all the time." Rachel paused to take a steadying breath or else she was going to start crying, something she desperately didn't want to do. Once she was calmer, she turned her attention back to the older man.

"Sorry, didn't mean to dump all that on you. I'm just not looking forward to sleeping in the same room as those women. I'm not used to sleeping in the same room with complete strangers," she explained.

"Don't worry about it. The way those two are behaving I don't blame you in the slightest," Gil agreed.

"I'd really like to wake up," Rachel stated. She was tired of having that thought but it just kept coming back.

"Well, until we do, let's deal with the present situation. If the paramedics are gone, who's watching Mr. Brown?" Gil inquired. He all ready knew the answer but it was a good way to distract the woman. She seemed to do better when thinking about others.

Realization slowly dawned on Rachel. "You don't think they'd actually do anything to him, do you?"

That thought had not occurred to the senior CSI. Wordlessly he shrugged his shoulders and headed indoors.

Relief flowed through Rachel when she found Bob sleeping deeply, alone in the bunk house. Gratefully, she settled into the chair beside his bed and quickly checked his vital signs. Despite a slight rattle in his lungs, the young soldier was holding his own.

While Rachel had been outside, someone had moved four extra beds into the room. Luckily there was enough room for them. Distantly, Rachel wished she could sleep here. At least she'd be away from the Barbie twins. As she was thinking and dreading, the two brothers came in.

"Where do we sleep?" the older one asked. They both looked exhausted. Wordlessly, she indicated two of the new beds. She figured they hadn't been taken yet.

"Thanks," the dark haired brother said as he shuffled to the nearest bed. "How is he?"

"About the same," Rachel told him. She wasn't sure he heard her though. His eyes slammed shut as soon as his head hit the pillow. Dean paused long enough to take his shoes, socks and jacket off before he too collapsed on a bed and was out.

Time passed. Whatever the Station had responded to had to have been big, there was no sign of them. Rachel took Bob's vitals every half hour. At first they remained stable. Then his heart beat and respiration began to increase while his blood pressure dropped slightly. Frightened, Rachel looked closer and discovered that he was shivering and his skin felt clammy.

Sitting back she tried to swallow her fear. There was no one here to consult. Gil was a doctor but not a medical one. The two paramedics were absent. For a split second she considered waking Sam and Dean. Somehow she got the feeling that they had medical knowledge. But she shrugged the idea away.

Still scared, she glanced down at Bob's sleeping face. He was pale and slightly sweaty. His eyes were closed and his mouth was slightly open. The soldier suddenly appeared very young to her. Rachel supposed everyone did when they slept. Swallowing her fear, she lifted the blanket that covered him and slipped underneath it after she took her shoes off.

Gently, Rachel slid one arm under this head and huddled against Bob's side. Being large had one bonus, she gave off lots of body head. That should allow her to warm Bob up. As the heat registered, Bob rolled over and cuddled against her.

Fear spiked higher. It took everything Rachel had to not pull away and get out of the bed. It had been a very long time since she'd slept with anyone but her cats. It had been a long time since she'd even let anyone touch her. Part of her enjoyed it immensely. But having a strange man pressed up against her mostly made her skin crawl.

"Kim," Bob breathed. Then he began to cough so hard he could barely breathe.

Not knowing what else to do, Rachel rubbed his back over his shirt until the fit passed.

"Water," Bob managed. His throat was on fire, so were his lungs. Briefly he wondered how Rachel had come to be in his bed but the warmth she was giving him felt too good to question.

"Ah, hold on a second," Rachel advised. She had trouble reaching the glass of water situated on the floor without dislodging Bob.

"Here," Grissom said as he handed the glass over to Bob. First he had to help the man sit up a bit.

"Thanks," Bob said upon draining the liquid. A shifter made its way through his frame, making him tremble. "I need to go to the bathroom."

"Certainly." Rachel barely kept herself from jumping out of the bed. As casually as she could, she gained her feet and moved out of the way. Grissom helped Bob to his feet. The two men shuffled out of the room, dragging the IV pole with them.

Suddenly thirsty, Rachel picked up the empty water glass and headed for the kitchen. As she was walking through the garage, the engine and squad rumbled up and backed into their spots. Exhausted, covered with soot and smelling of smoke, the six men climbed out of their vehicles. The four firefighters nodded at Rachel on their way to the large shower room. It was located beyond the locker room and washrooms.

"How's he doing?" Roy asked. He desperately wanted to take a shower after fighting that blaze but he was concerned for his patient. Johnny came around the squad to join his partner and the woman.

"He was holding steady. Then about an hour ago, his pulse and respiration increased while his BP dropped slightly. He was shivering and clammy to the touch. Right now Gil's helping him to the bathroom," she informed them.

"I'll check on him," Johnny offered. At Roy's nod, he headed off.

"How are you doing?" Roy asked.

"Fine," was the automatic response.

"I'm sorry we were gone so long," Roy stated.

"Why? You were doing your job." To prevent any more uncomfortable conversation, Rachel held up the glass. "I'm going to get some more water. Why don't you get cleaned up?"

Rachel barely waited for a response before heading for the common room and the kitchen beyond.

"How's it going?" Johnny asked. He'd found Gil and Bob making their way back to the bunk house. The big man virtually dwarfed the CSI but he was so weak that he had to lean on the smaller man for support.

"Rachel's worried," Gil replied. He tried not to show how heavy the younger man was and was mostly successful. "I think he's a bit worse but he still refused to go to the hospital."

"Well, let's get you to bed and go from there," Johnny suggested. He paused long enough to shuck his turn-out coat. Then he pulled Bob's free hand across his shoulders and helped them on their way.

Chet, Captain Stanley, Mike and Marco Lopez had finished their showers and had donned their other set of clothes. Slowly, Roy stripped off his own filthy clothes before heading into the communal shower stall. The warm water felt wonderful as streams of ash made their way down the drain. Picking up a bar of soap, Roy started to scrub. When he was at work he didn't waste any more time than necessary in the shower. He'd been caught more than once with shampoo running in his eyes.

"That looks nice," a female voice stated from behind Roy.

For the first time in his life, Roy DeSoto didn't know what to do. He glanced over his shoulder to find Samantha leaning against the door jam. Her eyes burned and there was a strange smile on her face. Instantly he felt uncomfortable and vulnerable.

"What do you want?" was the first thing that came to the paramedic's mind.

"What do you have?" Samantha shot back. Boldly, she started forward to cover the distance between them.

"Get out!" Roy shouted with as much force as he could muster. He felt cold to the core despite the warm water that continued to run over his skin. Never in his life had the ex-medic been rude to a woman but he didn't know what else to do.

"What's this?"Johnny demanded. His naked partner was trying to keep the woman from seeing any more than she had all ready.

"Get her out of here," Roy pleaded. He didn't know how he was going to explain this to his wife or the guys. The need to fall into a deep dark hole burned through his mind.

"Come on." Johnny caught the woman by the nearest arm and tried to steer her towards the door. Casually, the woman took hold of Johnny's hand and flipped him over her shoulder. She had the presence of mind to make sure his head didn't bounce off the porcelain floor. But she didn't try to prevent the rest of his body from slamming down.

Chuckling, Samantha let go of the stunned paramedic's hand and turned her attention back to Roy. Fear and rage burned through the older paramedic. Just as he was about to turn from the wall to defend himself and his partner, Captain Stanley and Mike Stoker came to the doorway. They'd heard the ruckus and come to check it out.

It took the seasoned firemen moments to evaluate the situation. Disgusted, Captain Stanley advanced on the woman. "Come with me," he growled.

Suddenly docile in the face of authority, Samantha followed the captain out of the shower. Before she passed through the door, she paused and blew a kiss at Roy.

"Here," Mike said. He'd grabbed a towel and held it out to the paramedic. The engineer was deeply troubled by what he'd just witnessed.

"Thanks," Roy muttered. Quickly, he wrapped the welcome material around his waist. As he turned the water off, Mike knelt down beside a still stunned Johnny.

"Are you okay?" Mike asked. Gently he helped Johnny sit up while he tried to catch his breath.

It took the young paramedic a full minute to get enough breath to reply. Finally, he was able to convince his body to respond. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Johnny managed as he gained his feet. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know," Roy admitted. The three men left the shower. Roy quickly got dressed and felt instantly better. For his part, Johnny tried to ignore the pain radiating out of his chest from having the breath knocked out of him. His back and shoulder were aching as well. He didn't feel like taking a shower and opted to wash up in the sink before changing.

"What was going on?" Mike asked. He'd never seen anything like it before.

"I think she wanted to have sex with Roy," Johnny stated from the sink. The pain in his chest had subsided with his increased ability to breath. He still didn't completely understand how Samantha flipped him so effortlessly. It gave him a strange feeling.

"You're married!" Mike exclaimed, shocked.

"I don't think it really mattered to her," Johnny replied. His partner was silent as he finished getting dressed. He wasn't too sure how he felt about the whole incident and need time to process it.

"Man," Mike said quietly. He couldn't believe it. Shaking his head, he left the room.

"Are you okay?" Johnny inquired as he dried off.

"I'm fine," was the only response. "Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"No, I'll live." Johnny didn't look forward to trying to explain to Dr. Brackett and Dixie how he got beat up by a woman. Besides, he was sore but he didn't think anything permanent had been done.

"I'm going to check on Bob Brown," Roy announced. "See you in the bunk house."


	7. Chapter 7

Roy didn't waste any time looking for food despite being hungry. The captain would be dealing with Samantha somewhere in the station and he didn't want to risk running into her. He honestly wasn't sure what he'd do to her the next time he saw the woman.

The bunkhouse felt like a sanctuary. Even Rachel's female presence wasn't enough to ruin it. The room was dimly lit except for a lamp near Bob's bed. Rachel was currently taking Bob's vitals while trying not to wake him. As she finished she glanced up at Roy who had nearly reached her.

Instantly she went very still. "What happened?" she asked. There was a hardness to the paramedic's face that hadn't been there before. It set her nerves on end.

Roy stopped dead in his tracks. The only person he'd considered discussing the even with was his wife. On his way to the bunk house he'd had time to reconsider. He'd decided to pretend it hadn't happened. For a full 30 seconds he simply stood and stared at her.

"Which one was it?" the large woman asked as gently as she could. Anger and rage boiled through her mind and body. Deliberately, she stood up and crossed the distance between them. As she came within range to touch him, Roy took a step back. Rachel stopped and waited for him to speak.

"It was nothing," Roy said, dropping his head. Desperately he wanted to climb into his bed and pull the covers over his head. That is, if his stomach would let him do it. It growled loudly.

"Somehow I doubt that." Angry, she turned her attention to a new subject. "He's getting worse. We're going to have to increase the antibiotics, give him a bolus or take him to the hospital. Since he's still refusing the last alternative, you should maybe get hold of Dr. Brackett."

"Here are his vitals over the last three hours. I'll be right back in a minute." Rachel tried to slip by the taller man.

"Wait." Roy nearly touched her arm but he pulled his hand back at the last moment. Rachel stopped and turned toward the paramedic, distinctly aware of how close she actually was to the man. Patiently, she waited for him to begin.

"I don't want a big deal made out of it. She walked in on me in the shower." That was as much as he was willing to divulge.

"Was she aggressive?" Rachel asked. She saw the answer in the man's troubled blue eyes before he shook his head 'no'. "I'll be right back." She wanted to rip the woman's throat open. Luckily, she was a pacifist at heart.

"Leave her alone. I don't want it made into a big deal," Roy repeated.

"It's all ready a big deal," Rachel said as gently as she could. Quickly she headed out of the bunk house.

"Why did you do that?!" Captain Stanley demanded. He had Samantha in his office, trying to figure out what to do with her.

"Because I'm horny," Samantha replied, grinning at the man's discomfort. They were such prudes around here.

"He's a married man!" Captain Stanley was completely unsettled by the woman's apparent lack of concern. To him and his generation, marriage was considered to be a sacred bond between a man and a woman. This woman's cavalier attitude was beyond his comprehension.

"So?! He doesn't have AIDS. Nothing else matters." Samantha shot back. "For that matter, you're clean too. Are you interested?"

"Behave yourself!" Rachel growled from the doorway. It took every ounce of restraint she possessed to keep from throttling the woman.

"It's none of your business. Keep your fat ass out of my affairs," Samantha growled back.

"Are you really that weak that you can't control your urges?" Rachel chose to ignore the comment about her butt. It was what she'd come to expect.

"Why should I? They don't have AIDS. Do you have any idea how big that is?" The captain sat back and let the two women have it out. Beyond Rachel he saw Chet, Marco and Mike along with Nick and Grissom in the garage, listening in.

"Are you absolutely positive you're clean?" Rachel asked. She worked very hard to keep her voice at an even level. Samantha didn't answer. "How do you know that you're not the one who started AIDS in the first place? We can't take that kind of chance."

"But I'm horny!" Samantha whined. She was used to having her wishes catered to. It put her out that this overweight, sanctimonious Trekkie was trying to tell her what she could and couldn't do.

"Grow up!" Rachel replied, thoroughly disgusted with her immature behaviour. She turned to the men in the garage. "Do yourselves a favour. Don't have sex with any of the displaced people. It could kill you."

Frustrated, Rachel left the office. She paused in the kitchen long enough to get a snack for Roy. She'd heard his stomach growling. Then she headed back to the bunk house.

Roy was sitting on his bed, fully clothed, staring at the floor. Tentatively, Rachel placed the food she'd scavenged beside him. "I'm very sorry. You didn't deserve to have that happen to you," she said quietly,

Slowly, the younger man raised his head to look at her. The feat and confusion in those blue depths broke her heart. "It wasn't your fault," was the only thing she could think to say.

"Thank you," Roy finally said. Rachel moved the food toward him and then returned to her seat beside Bob. The military man was sleeping fitfully. Boughts of coughing kept him from falling into a deep, healing rest.

"I talked to Dr. Brackett," Roy said from his bunk. "He wants to admit him. Barring the he wants us to give him IV antibiotics as well as oral ones. He's bringing the prescriptions himself."

"I'd feel better if Dr. Brackett examined him. I'm worried for him," Rachel replied.

"Where did you get your medical training?" Roy had finally thought to ask. It was easier to not think too much about himself at the moment.

"I once worked as an animal health technologist, a veterinary assistant. Animals and humans are remarkably similar," Rachel admitted, a blush coming to her cheeks that Roy could see even in the dim light.

"Oh," was the only response he could come up with.

Wet, booming coughs came to rescue them form the awkward moment. Concerned, Rachel and Roy both bent over the younger man. Desperate for breath, Bob was awake and sitting up. The fit seemed to last forever, Bob's face turned red as he struggled to draw air into his lungs.

"Isn't there anything you can do for him?" Rachel asked, scared. Not know what else to do, she rubbed his back.

"I'll get the oxygen," Roy said. "Stay with him."

Rachel paused in her ministrations long enough to grab a glass of water. When the fit finally passed, she handed it to him. The cup was empty in moments.

"Feeling any better?" she asked, anxiously peering into his face. She picked the wet cloth up out of the basin, wrung it out and placed it on his feverish forehead.

"The hospital may not be such a bad idea," Bob admitted. He had to pause twice to catch his breath. His Special Forces training and security clearance prevented him from letting anyone put him under the influence of drugs or alcohol. Right now he wished fervently that Jonas Blaine, his commanding officer, were here to watch over him.

"Is there any way that you could let them admit you?" Rachel hadn't bothered to ask the young man what part of the Armed Forces he was from. She figured she was better off not knowing.

"Not in enemy territory with no one in command to observe." Bob was forced to lie back down on the bed. The world had begun to spin drunkenly. Trembling, he closed his eyes and waited for it to stop. By the book, he should not have even admitted to the woman that her assumption was correct.

"Your security concerns won't matter if you're dead," Rachel observed.

The oxygen bottle and face mask firmly clutched in his hands, Roy came into the bunk house, Dr. Brackett and Dixie trailing behind. They found Rachel and Johnny sitting beside Bob's bed. The patient appeared to be unconscious. Each breath he took sounded with a rasp. He was pale and sweaty.

Johnny looked up as the trio approached. Silently, he shook his head before moving out of the way to let the doctor and nurse reach the man. The events of the last 14 hours had the young paramedic shaken. He was relieved to have the doctor here to tend Bob. The man was beyond Johnny's ability to heal. "Here's his latest vital signs," he said as he offered a slip of paper to Doctor Brackett.

A quick scan was all the doctor needed. In the leather bag he'd brought with him, Dr. Brackett found the medicines he wanted and he began administering them. Done, he sat back and looked at the man. "Keep a close eye on him. If his vital signs deteriorate further I want him at Rampart."

"We can't monitor him all night and still do our job," Johnny stated. He was suddenly feeling very tired. He envied the brothers who continued to sleep soundly despite the activity in the room.

"I can watch over him tonight," Rachel offered. If it meant not sleeping in the same room as the other two, she was more than willing to miss a little shut eye.

"I'm not sure how comfortable the others guys are going to be with having a woman in the room while they try to sleep," Johnny said.

"Yeah, my wife may not appreciate it," Roy added.

"I promise I won't disturb anyone unless Bob gets worse," Rachel stated. After Samantha's behaviour, she wasn't surprised that it would make them uncomfortable.

"Ask the others," Dr. Brackett stated. Untrained though the woman was, it was the best solution to the current situation.


	8. Chapter 8

_Hello. I have the feeling I've upset people with the shower scene. It was supposed to be upsetting to have something that vulgar happen to Roy. I was trying to figure out the important things that have changed since the 70's. Attitudes, the Internet, cell phones and certainly AIDS were some of the biggest. There are others but I haven't quite gotten that far yet._

_Anyway, thank you for continuing to read._

_Susanne_

Two days passed. Johnny, Roy and the others were replaced by "B" and "C" shifts. All of the other twelve men were nice and more than willing to put up with the crowded conditions, even the women. They were very quick to learn to be careful around Samantha and Holly. They also learned that Rachel was a decent enough nurse for Bob.

The military man was slowly improving. The antibiotics had taken hold and were combating the pneumonia that had begun. He spent a large amount of time sleeping, trying to get his strength back. Rachel made sure that he ate three meals a day and watched him at night so the others could sleep. It also gave her an excuse to avoid the Barbie twins.

For their part, Nick, Gil, Sam and Dean spent their time and energy trying to figure out how they had all come to be here in the first place. Some of the explanations the brothers came up with were very far-fetched. The one that Rachel enjoyed the most involved temporal demons vaguely similar to what had appeared on an episode of 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer'. The two CSI's did not find it amusing but Sam seemed to be excited by the possibility. The younger Winchester brother had asked permission and been allowed to spend most of his waking hours at the local library. Dean mostly prowled the station while his brother was gone.

Holly and Samantha spent most of their time primping in the bathroom, flirting with everyone and anyone and complaining about not being able to shop. The captain eventually broke down and brought them catalogues so they could order new clothes. That occupied the women for hours on end as they laughed and made fun of the fashions.

Rachel spent some time with Gil and others but mostly she slept in the morning and early afternoon. She got to the point that the tones barely even made an impression. The only real problem she had was the bathroom and the shower. The designers of the station house had never considered the possibility of female firefighters. The bathroom was wide open with a few stalls with doors, the shower was communal. Always shy around strangers and of her body, Rachel refused to use either in the available facilities. That was one of the reasons she didn't mind staying awake at night, she took her showers when everyone else was in bed. No one had seemed to notice the locked door and she hadn't informed them.

"How's the patient?" Billy Hanks asked. He was one of the paramedics on C shift. The young man had been trained by Johnny and Roy in this very station. Despite making Rachel feel older than she was, she found him to be very competent and good company when he wasn't on a run.

"Sleeping," Rachel replied, smiling. It was just after supper. They'd removed the IV earlier because Dr. Brackett hadn't wanted to leave it any longer than necessary. Bob had stayed awake long enough to eat, use the bathroom and with Gil's help, take a shower. Exhausted, the dark haired soldier practically collapsed into his bed and was sleeping deeply in a matter of moments. "He's breathing better."

"Groovy," Hanks stated. The cleaning after the evening meal complete, the paramedic took up a position beside Bob. Even with her best efforts, Rachel couldn't quite stifle the laugh that erupted. Hanks looked at her, a little confused by her outburst.

"Sorry. I'm not used to hearing that kind of language except in bad movies. I'll try to contain myself." While the young man made her feel very old, she still liked him.

"I'll remember that." Billy stated. Out of all the refugees, he found Rachel the easiest to be around.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to go for a walk. Could you keep an eye on Bob?" The walls of the station were beginning to close in. The station house was located in a primarily commercial area. This time of night there wouldn't be too many people around.

"If you need company, take one of the others with you," Billy suggested.

"No thanks, I think I'm all companied out." Rachel flashed the young paramedic a smile before leaving the room. Hoping to not run into anyone the woman slipped through the garage and went out the side door.

Beyond she found that night had fallen. The street in front of the station was well lit. Not wanting to draw attention to herself, Rachel moved into the deeper shadows beside the station and sat down on the grass. Cars, trucks and the occasional station wagon drove by. It took several minutes for Rachel to notice the lack of SUV's. Somehow the world seemed better off without them.

As time passed, the tensions of the day slowly melted away. A big sigh passed through her body. Quietly, she began to hum. The dark, the smell and feel of the grass and the relative quiet almost made her feel like she was home.

"Hey, you okay?" Sam asked, causing her to jump. She'd seen the bus lumber by but hadn't realized the youngest Winchester had gotten off of it.

"Yes," Rachel shot back, trying to hide her bright. "Just feeling a little antisocial."

"Can't say I blame you," Sam replied. Without asking, he plopped down a few feet away from her. "It must be getting old, staying up all night watching over Bob."

"It beats the alternative." It came out before Rachel thought to stop the comment. She ducked her head in embarrassment.

"Yeah, I don't know that I'd want to sleep in the same room with them either. Their attitude may be contagious," Sam said.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to complain," Rachel mumbled.

"You weren't. You were simply voicing an opinion," Sam replied.

"I guess." Rachel desperately wanted a change of subject. "How're the theories coming?"

"Well, I'd love to say that I'm getting closer but I'm not," Sam sounded as frustrated and defeated as she felt.

"I keep thinking that we got here somehow, so we must be able to get home. It'll happen when it happens," Rachel stated.

"I wish I could be that optimistic," Sam replied. Sam really wanted to get home, find his dad and hill that demon that killed his mother. None of the rest of this mattered. If Dean wasn't here, he'd probably have lost it all ready.

"It'll work out, it always does," Rachel assured him. That was something Rachel's dad had tried to teach her for years. It had only been lately that she'd started to believe him. East lost in their own thoughts, they sat and watched the traffic pass by.

"Sammy!" Dean called from the side door. Anxiously, he scanned the general area in search of his brother. He hated it when his younger brother was missing. He needed to know where Sam was all the time. If Dean thought about it, he'd realize it was a reaction to his father's disappearance.

"Yeah," Sam called. "Don't call me Sammy." Whenever Dean used that old nickname, Sam felt like a little kid. It infuriated him. Unfortunately, Dean knew it.

"Why are you sitting out here in the dark?" Dean inquired. He was doubly surprised to find the older woman sitting in the shadows as well. In all the time they'd been here. Dean hadn't really had a conversation with the woman. He doubted very much that he'd have anything in common with her.

"Just thinking," Sam replied.

"Think inside," Dean snapped. He didn't understand what his brother was doing. Granted the two women in the station were a bit skanky but at least they were nicer to watch when they talked. Was he really that shallow Dean wondered. Then he decided it didn't really matter, it wasn't like he planned on sleeping with any of them.

"It's too loud in there to think clearly," Sam replied. He glanced over at Rachel. The woman was staring out at the street, pointedly ignoring both of them. When she was like this, it seemed like she had a wall built around her that kept everyone away from her.

"Sitting out here in the dark is kind of creepy, dude," Dean continued to press.

"Dean, go away." Sometimes his brother had the sensitivity of a door knob.

"I have to go watch Bob. I'll see you two inside," Rachel said. Abruptly, Rachel forced herself to her feet and stepped by the two boys.

"Damn it, Dean. Why did you have to do that?" Frustrated, Sam picked up his dad's journal and the notebooks he'd been using to take notes and bounded to his feet.

"What'd I do?" the elder Winchester boy wanted to know.

"She's a nice lady," Sam growled.

"I never said she wasn't," Dean stated, an injured lilt in his voice.

"Then why do you treat her like that?" Rather than continuing this conversation inside where the others might hear, Sam stayed where he was in the shadows.

"Like what?" Dean really had no idea what his kid brother was getting at.

"Like she wasn't there," Sam informed him.

"She didn't seem to mind," Dean replied.

"She was just being polite," Sam stated.

"Whatever, dude. Let's go inside before they send a search party."

Later that night as the men were getting ready to bed down, Sam found Rachel in her usual spot beside a sleeping Bob. The man had begun to improve now that the antibiotics had taken hold but the woman still preferred to watch over him, just in case.

"Hey, how are you doing?" Sam asked, sitting down beside her.

"I'm fine," Rachel replied, smiling at him. She knew he was upset with his brother. She wanted to make sure he knew there were no hard feelings.

"I'm sorry about Dean," Sam apologized.

"Don't be. It's fine." Rachel glanced down at her charge. She was intensely aware of how handsome the young man was. Rachel was also intensely aware of how very young he was. She was almost old enough to be his mother. The realization made her a little uncomfortable with conflicting emotions. Rather than take the chance that he might notice, she refused to look him in the eye. Instead she busied herself with Bob.

"He can be a bit of an ass," Sam said. He could tell that she was trying to cover up her discomfort. It made him feel bad.

"Don't worry about it," Rachel said. She wished desperately that the boy would drop the whole thing. Humans were not her thing. She didn't get along with most of them. Suddenly she missed her 

plants and the peace and quiet of her work. She even missed that crazy dog Zane. "Please just drop it."

The fire fighters, paramedics and other displaced men were entering the bunk house. Nick wa snot among them, nor was Grissom.

"How's he doing?" Sam had decided on a change of subject. The woman was practically crawling out of her skin, she as so uncomfortable. He was hoping to distract her. He'd liked her better when they'd been outside and she was more relaxed.

"He's getting better," Rachel responded.

"Does he need to be watched all night?" Sam asked.

"Probably not," Rachel hedged. "I just wanted to make sure for tonight."

"Okay. I'll see you in the morning then." Sam retreated to his bed across the aisle and quickly stripped down to his underwear and t-shirt. Exhausted, he climbed under the sheet and was promptly asleep.

The last one to enter the room, Dean saw his kid brother climb into bed. The last few days had been a bit of a novelty for both of them. Demon hunting usually involved night work. As a result, he and Sam had both become accustomed to getting sleep when they could. For both of them to be able to sleep at the same time was virtually unheard of. Unconcerned by the other men, Dean made his way down the aisle to his bed beside Sam. As he passed Bob, Dean paused and glanced at Rachel. A novel in her hand, she was thoroughly engrossed in it. Unsure what to say, he simply went to bed.


	9. Chapter 9

_Hi! I just wanted to let you know that Ed Oosterhuis is from Blue Murder, Dr. Spenser Reid is obviously from Criminal Minds and Agent Booth is from Bones. I don't own any of them, I'm not making money off them and I'll give them back when I'm done. I promise._

_Susanne_

Time passed. The refugees developed routines even while becoming more and more restless. Bob's health improved to the point that he was able to spend time in the common room. Grissom, Nick, Sam and Dean spent hours trying to figure out a way home.

Seven days into their stay, government agents and scientists showed up and started to run tests on all of the refugees. By the time they were done, all of them had begun to feel like guinea pigs. Multiple blood samples were taken from each of them, followed by a complete physical exam. Finally each of them was subjected to psychological tests. All of them held back on these tests. There were too many things about the future and about themselves that they didn't want anyone to know.

By unanimous decision, the refugees had decided to not bring up the tragedies of their time. As much as they would like to have prevented them there were too many unknowns. What would be the effect on the world as well as the United States if the bombing of the Army barracks was prevented or 9-11? They just didn't know enough. As much as it burned Grissom to admit it, there were forces at work that he couldn't understand or plan for.

By the end of the day, all eight of them were irritable and exhausted. Huddled in the common room for mutual support, the five men and three women were silent as they waited for the agents to leave.

A shift was in and standing around the garage. They had no idea what had been done to the others but one look at Bob's drawn, pale face confirmed that it was nothing good. Johnny, Roy and Mike Stoker hung at the back of the room, closest to Captain Stanley's office. Inside, the agents and scientists were discussing their next move.

"Man, this isn't right," Johnny muttered in a low voice.

"Yeah, I know," Roy replied in an equally low tone.

Inside the office, one of the main scientists was talking.

"We need to use sodium pentothal on each and every one of them," he demanded. "None of them are telling us everything."

"I don't know if the President will authorize that," the lead agent stated. He'd been introduced as Agent Booth.

"Perhaps the President doesn't need to be informed," the scientist replied. A murmur of unrest prevailed in the room. Clearly the others did not hold to the same sentiment.

"Don't bring that up as an alternative ever again, Dr. Fox," Agent Booth warned. He didn't always enjoy the deeds of his job required of him but he held firmly to his honour and his duty.

The room subsided into silence. "All right, Mr. Booth. How do you suggest we get the whole truth out of them?"

"That is for the President's advisory council to decide. As for now, you've run all your tests. Let's leave these people in peace until we hear otherwise?" Without waiting for a response, Agent Booth collected his papers and carefully slipped them into his briefcase. He locked it and then he left the room. Silently, his fellow agents followed him out to their black sedans parked in the back. Disgusted and frustrated, Dr. Fox and his people did likewise.

"John, Roy, go check on them, please," Captain Stanley instructed once all of the others had left. He'd hated the feeling of helplessness that had invaded his station while the government men were there. Being a patriotic American, he couldn't disagree with their intentions but having known the refugees for the last week it had turned his stomach.

"Sure thing, Cap," Roy said. Quickly, the two paramedics made their way into the common room. Unbidden, Chet, Mike and Marco trailed behind.

Subdued, the refugees looked up as the firemen entered. They were huddled together, almost as if they needed each other's presence. In the back of the room, Rachel sat beside Bob. The young soldier could barely maintain an upright position but he refused to give in. He couldn't take the chance that the agents might return and overrule his right to refuse being admitted.

"I'm sorry," Roy said to the room in general. While they all looked pale and a little shaky, Bob was in the worse shape. Expertly, the senior paramedic turned his attention to the soldier.

"Are they done?" Gil asked. It had been a really long, gruelling day. He just wanted to take a shower and go to bed. Hopefully tomorrow would be a better day.

"Yes," Johnny said. There was nothing to do but hydrate Bob and get everyone to bed.

"Let's go," Gil said. He and Nick stood up, moved over to Bob and carefully pulled the man to his feet. The brothers tagged along as the trio left the common room on their way to bed. Feeling helpless, Johnny and Roy glanced at the women before heading off after them.

Wanting desperately to go to bed, same as the others, Rachel debated with herself. The last two nights Bob had been well enough that she hadn't had to watch him. Now, with the stress of the day causing him to relapse, Rachel wasn't sure if she needed to stay with him or sleep. The Barbie twins had pulled their cots out and were quickly putting their sheets and blankets on them.

"Rachel?" Roy had stuck his head in the door. "Do you feel up to staying with Bob?"

"Sure," Rachel responded, grateful that the decision had been made for her. She paused long enough to grab a glass of water and the book she was currently reading before following Roy into the bunk house.

For his part, the senior paramedic hated to ask but division had made it very clear that he and Johnny had to do their jobs first and take care of Bob second. He held the door open for Rachel. His wife, Joanne, wasn't really all that thrilled with women being in the station house but she trusted her husband. Roy hadn't told her about Samantha, he didn't want to worry her.

"Thanks," Rachel said to him as she slipped by. The last two nights sleeping with the Barbie twins had soured her on the idea. She wasn't sure how she would ever get used to sleeping with anyone else in the room, much less, two giggling, whispering women. She was thankful that she didn't have to repeat that experience tonight. Rachel slipped down the aisle to take her customary position beside Bob's bed. All thoughts of sleep vanished when she looked at Bob's pale, sweat-slicked face.

A quick check of his vital signs showed that while he looked bad, he was still holding his own. Silently, she slipped out of the room long enough to get a cloth and basin of water. When she returned she gently washed Bob's face and neck. His eyes flickered open and came to rest on her.

"It's okay," she assured him. "Go back to sleep."

More days passed. The fire crews cycled through their shifts. The scientists and government agents came every few days but as one week became two even they seemed to lose interest. The refugees were becoming restless. There was only so much to do in the fire station. No one was any closer to a plan to get them all home. Sam had caused going to the library and had snuck out to go to occult shops he found. Dean was on the prowl for something else entirely. Beer.

The elder Winchester's continual grumbling eventually caused Johnny to bring a few just to shut him up.

The Barbie twins had been taken out shopping, as had all of them, to buy a few new clothes. Their own were all ready starting to get a little threadbare. Rachel and the men were all done in half an hour but they were forced to sit around for nearly three hours while the two men got their outfits just right. Then they proceeded to spend another hour getting their make-up and toiletries at a drug store.

"Aren't you going to get any?" Nick asked. He and Rachel were leaning against a wall. On the floor beside them were baskets with their tooth paste, tooth brushes, deodorant and other items.

"I don't wear make-up," Rachel replied.

"What about night creams and the rest of that stuff?" He was amazed. He didn't think he'd met a woman in recent history who didn't use any kind of cosmetic.

"Just plain water," Rachel stated, a small smile playing across her lips. "Unless you count this."

From her basket, she extracted a container of body lotion. Her skin had been so dry that she could hardly stand it.

"No," Nick said, smiling. "I don't really think that counts." He was exhausted from spending hours upon hours creating, examining and ultimately discarding ideas. The mere fact that here he couldn't work on the possibilities forced him to relax a bit.

"Do you think they'll find the colors they're looking for? Make-up was significantly different in the 70's," Rachel said as she watched the two women. For her part, Rachel hadn't really minded the whole shopping experience thus far. It reminded her of her childhood but it also made her a little homesick.

"I have no idea," Nick responded, grinning. He glanced up at Bob as the other man settled against the wall beside him. The military man was doing better and had managed to stay on his feet for the whole shopping experience. He was, however, beginning to show signs of tiring.

"I don't even go shopping with my wife. Those two are driving me nuts," he breathed.

Time dragged. The two women were having a little too much fun. Bored, Rachel glanced toward the door where their keepers, two FBI agents stood. She would have preferred spending the time with Johnny and Roy but both men were working. The two agents had been joined by four other men. She spotted the two refugees immediately. They weren't wearing polyester suits. She nudged Nick with her elbow to draw his attention to the group moving toward them.

"Rachel, Nick, Bob," the elder of the agents greeted them. "This is Ed Oosterhuis and Dr. Spenser Reid. They're going to be attached to your station until we find somewhere to put them.

"You'll like Ed, Rachel," Agent Booth continued. "He's Canadian too."

"Really?" Rachel tried to keep the excitement out of her voice and failed miserably. "Where are you from?"

"Toronto," Ed replied. The woman seemed genuinely relieved to have a countryman around. The Metro PD officer didn't really blame her. "You?"

"Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan." Rachel realized from the surprise on her companions' faced that they hadn't know either. She blushed.

"We're both a long way from home," Ed stated.

"You'd better pick out the toiletries you think you'll need. There's no telling when we'll get the chance to shop again," Booth suggested.

Neither man seemed very inclined to do their own shopping so Booth sent the other two agents to do it for them. The FBI Agent looked closer at Dr. Reid. "You're a little young to be a doctor, aren't you?"

For the first time, Rachel looked closer at the two new additions. Ed was probably about 30 with blond hair and brown eyes. He had a medium build and stood about five feet, ten inches tall and was handsome.

Dr. Reid on the other hand had brown hair and blue eyes. He had a very slight build and stood about six feet tall. He too was handsome in a geeky sort of way but he looked to be maybe twenty years old.

Spenser didn't respond to the question, he was too busy taking in his surroundings. He appeared to be verging on shock. He was talking quietly under his breath. Gil and Sam made their way over to the little gathering. The senior CSI watched the younger man's lips intently.

"Earth to Dr. Reid," Booth said, snapping his fingers in front of the man's face.

"Yes?" Spenser responded, blinking against the movement. Thoughts, ideas, equations and possibilities raced through his mind, making it a little hard to concentrate on the here and now.

"Are you okay?" Gil asked. The CSI had been reading the young man's lips and knew that, while he was preoccupied, Dr. Reid had been going through equations and clues to solve their current problem.

"Yes," Dr. Reid replied, realizing for the first time that he was the centre of attention. "I'm fine."

"Yeah, right," Booth scoffed. "Are those women done yet?"

Dean was trying to help the Barbie twins pick colours that worked on them. But he was really having too much fun making them look like clowns.


	10. Chapter 10

The station house was quiet when the 13 passenger van pulled up and disgorged its contents. The two FBI agents followed the refugees into the building. The other drove the van away, intent on his next destination.

"This is where you stay?" Ed asked Rachel. The two Canadians stood on the driveway, their bags in hand.

"Yeah, Nick, Grissom and I were among the first to appear. They weren't quite sure what to do with us and we wound up here. It's just kind of snowballed from there," she replied.

"Is everyone else American?" The Torontonian was making conversation. He could see how relieved the woman was and didn't want to burst her bubble. Other than being Canadian, Detective Oosterhuis didn't think they had much of anything in common.

"In this group, yes, they're all American. I don't know about the other groups. Apparently there are over a hundred of us. " A big white catering van backed past the two. The driver and passenger got out. The driver and passenger got out, opened the back doors and began unloading containers of food into the stationhouse.

"Supper's here. Let's go. Food tends to disappear quickly around here," Rachel informed him.

The two Canadians made their way into the garage of the station and then into the kitchen area.

"There are more of them?" Chet was saying as he helped set out the plates.

"It's temporary, Kelly," Booth tried to reassure the fireman. "There's more popping up than they know what to do with."

Spenser, Nick, Sam and Grissom were huddled in the corner, deep in conversation. Rachel smiled despite herself. The group reminded her of the chess club or the science club in high school. Nearby, Bob was huddled in a chair, trying desperately to keep from shivering.

"We'll get you well yet, Bob," Rachel breathed as she sat down beside the man. Tenderly, she rested her hand on his leg. "Maybe you should go lie down."

Bob didn't respond for a few moments, he simply stared at her, fighting some inner battle. Then he seemed to deflate before her eyes. "Yeah, maybe that's a good idea."

He was getting very tired of being so weak but the Unit member knew he was also stronger than he'd been before. Patience was not one of his strong suits. Shakily, he gained his feel and began to make his way out of the common area, his shopping bag clutched in his hand.

Bob made it half way to the door before Roy joined him and followed him out.

"What's wrong with him?" Ed asked as he sat down beside Rachel.

"He's been sick since he appeared. He bordered on pneumonia for a few days before he started to get better," she answered. The common room was getting loud and more than a little crowded. For the first time, Rachel was beginning to get a little claustrophobic.

"Why isn't he in the hospital?" Ed asked. If the man was that ill, he needed to be under a doctor's care.

"He's military. He couldn't risk being incapacitated. Um, would you excuse me?" Rachel didn't even wait for a response before making a B-line for the door. Desperately, she passed through the garaged and slammed through the door. She didn't stop until she reached the fence along the border of the station lawn. Grateful, she sank to the ground, her back braced against the metal fence. Around her the world was going darker and quieter in the industrial section.

So intent was she on breathing deeply to stem the tide of fear that she didn't immediately notice Roy and Mike Stoker standing on the driveway watching her. It wasn't until she raised her head that she spied the two firemen. Feeling vulnerable and scared, she chose to not notice them and dropped her head again. The chain link fence felt cool on her back. Her knees were drawn up and her arms rested on them.

"Are you all right?" Roy asked. The two men had crossed the lawn and were standing uncertainly in front of the woman.

"I'm fine," floated up from her. Although slightly startled, Rachel didn't want them to know it.

"No, you're not," Roy replied. The two firemen sat down on either side of her, both unconsciously leaving the woman a bit of room.

"I just need a few minutes. You two have better go eat before all the food's gone," Rachel assured them.

"What about you?" Mike asked.

"I'm not hungry. Besides, I can stand to miss a few meals," she replied.

"Leaving you out here alone is not such a good idea," Roy stated.

"I'll be fine. Please, I just need a little time alone."

"Where is she? Is she okay?" Agent Booth demanded when the two firemen entered the kitchen.

"Rachel's sitting out on the lawn. Apparently she needs some time," Roy responded. Beyong Booth's head he saw one of the Barbie twins roll her eyes.

Without responding, Agent Booth got up from the table to check for himself.

"Such a drama queen," Holly grumbled under her breath.

The sun had fallen below the horizon. Street lights kept the area from being completely dark. A few feet to Rachel's right a cricket chirped happily. Despite herself, the terror and black mood began to lift.

Feeling better, Rachel glanced toward the station house. She nearly jumped out of her skin with fright when she found Agent Booth standing just outside the door, watching her. Just as she was debating whether or not to go inside a car pulled onto the driveway. The driver parked out of the way of the garage doors before climbing out.

Immediately, Rachel recognized Dr. Brackett, his bag in his hand. The doctor stopped upon noticing Rachel. "Hello," he said.

"Good evening, Dr. Brackett," Rachel replied as she climbed to her feet and moved over to join the taller man.

"What were you doing out here?" Kelly Brackett asked. Unconsciously he placed his hand on the small of the woman's back and began to steer her toward the doorway. Rachel managed not to pull away from him. She found the action both patronizing and comforting. Agent Booth held the door open for the duo and then followed them in.

"I was feeling claustrophobic," Rachel responded to the doctor's question. "I'm not used to being around this many people. I'm a lone at heart."

"Really?" Booth said, grinning. "I didn't have a clue."

"How is Mr. Brown today?" Dr. Brackett was deliberate in his attempt to change the subject.

"We spent four hours shopping this afternoon. He did fine but now he's lying down," Rachel answered.

"Shall we go check on him?" Dr. Brackett suggested.

The bunk area was dark. Quietly the two made their way to the man's familiar bed. Bob Brown was curled up on his side, his face facing them and his knees drawn up. Looking down at the younger man, Rachel was aware anew of just how young he really was. She was also newly aware of how very much older she suddenly felt.

Still trying to be quiet, Dr. Brackett turned on the bedside lamp and began examining his patient. In his exhaustion, Bob didn't react at all. Not even when the cold stethoscope was placed on his chest and then his back.

"Is he any better?" Rachel asked in a hushed tone.

"He isn't any worse," Dr. Brackett replied. "We'll let him sleep."

Later that night, Rachel was still restless. Everyone else was asleep, except for Agent Booth who was positioned in the common room. Not wanting to disturb anyone, Rachel wandered into the garage where she could pace in peace. Even at night the room had lights burning to keep it from being dark. Quietly, she padded over to the door and opened it to get some air.

A face appeared out of the dark. Startled, Rachel moved instinctively to pull the door shut. With lightning speed, a hand shot out and kept the door open. The rest of the body materialized out of the dark.

"I'm not going to hurt you," the man said.

"That's what the bad guys always say," Rachel shot back, still trying to force the door shut.

"I'm looking for someone. I heard he was here," the man said as he squeezed into the garage. Rachel was no match for the man, even with putting her considerable body weight into the door.

"One loud noise and an FBI agent will be here in a heartbeat," Rachel warned him. She put a little distance between them, just in case. But she wasn't really afraid of him. He didn't give her the creeps.

"I'm looking for Bob Brown," the man stated. He'd clanked around the room and then turned his attention back to the woman.

Rachel became very still. Her face instantly showed that she recognized the name. "What do you want with him?" she asked.

"He's a friend," the man added. When he saw that she wasn't completely convinced, he decided to throw caution to the wind.

"I work with him. I heard that he was very ill but wouldn't accept treatment. I just want to make sure he's okay," he continued.

"What's your name?" Rachel asked. They were still talking in hushed voices so as not to disturb anyone.

"Mac Gerhard," the man replied.

"Wait here. I'm hoping I don't have to call the FBI agent, right?" Rachel asked. She all ready knew the answer to that question but she had to ask.

A small smile played across the man's grizzled face. Silently, he shook his head, no.

Satisfied, Rachel headed into the sleeping area. Careful not to disturb the sleeping men, she knelt down beside Bob's bed and gently shook his shoulder. She hated to wake the man, he looked so young. After a moment, Bob's blue eyes fluttered open and came to rest on her face. "Sorry, Bob. There's a man out in the garage named Mac Gerhard. Do you know him?"

Instantly, Bob tried to get to his feet. "Hold on," Rachel shushed him, pushing him back onto the bed and covering him up again. "Do you know him?"

"Yes," Bob breathed, still struggling to sit up.

"Stay here," Rachel ordered. "I'll bring him in."


	11. Chapter 11

_I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get this out. I've gotten lazy. There's no other real excuse except I'm a bit of a procrastinator too. Hope you enjoy it!_

_Susanne_

By the time Rachel got to the door, Mac was standing just outside. Startled, she jumped before she could stop herself. 'Geez," she cursed, feeling her heart pounding. "You're military too, aren't you?"

Other than a slight rising of his blond eyebrow, Mac didn't respond.

"Be quiet, the others are sleeping," she admonished him before letting him enter the room.

Silently, the two padded down the aisle to where Bob was lying.

"What are they doing to you?" Mac breathed as he knelt down beside his friend. The younger man's puffy eyes with the black circles stood out starkly on his pale face.

"They're doing their best," Bob replied hoarsely. "Are you the only one?"

"Yeah, near as I can tell. I'll be back in a minute. Rest easy," Mac said. Standing hp, he gently took Rachel's arm and led her back to the garage so they could talk privately.

"How bad is he?" he asked once the door was closed.

"He's recovering but he's still weak. There's always a risk of a relapse. He refused being hospitalized so it's taken longer than it should have to knock it down," Rachel replied. The door to the common room opened and Booth burst into the garage, his gun drawn.

"Booth! It's okay," Rachel tried to calm the FBI agent.

"Who is he? What's he doing here?" Booth demanded as he tried to get around Rachel to get a better shot at the man.

"He came to check on Bob. They work together!" Deliberately, Rachel kept moving so she stayed in the way. One injured military man was enough.

"How did he get here?" Booth asked, his gun still aimed in the general direction of Mac.

"I walked," Mac replied. He was careful to keep any trace of irritation from his voice and face. The last thing he needed was to alienate this man. As it was, he was in enough trouble for leaving his billet and coming here.

"I'm going to call this in. Stay here," Booth ordered. He went into Captain Stanley's office.

"This could take a while," Rachel stated.

"Good. What are they doing for Bob?" Mac had come around in front of Rachel and stood facing her. Under normal circumstances she would find the intensity of his face and the closeness of his body intimidating and unnerving. But she could see the concern reflected in the man's blue eyes.

"He's on a strong dose of antibiotics and the doctors come to check on him every couple of days," Rachel informed him.

"Is there anything else they could be doing for him?" Mac asked.

"I suppose IV antibiotics would be more effective but they will only do that for an extended period of time in the hospital," Rachel said.

"Why doesn't he go to the hospital?" Mac had a sneaky suspicion that he knew the answer but he asked anyway.

"He wouldn't let them. I didn't ask too many questions. If he was willing to risk his life I figured it was important."

"Can you contact the doctor?" Mac asked. He was headed toward the sleeping quarters. By now Brown was probably getting anxious and he didn't want to keep him waiting.

"I'm sure the number's somewhere but he's not in distress so why don't we let him sleep here for the night?" Rachel hated the idea of moving the sick man in the cool California area. At least she thought that was her reason.

"That FBI agent's going to send me back to my billet. I need to know Brown's situated before that," Mac stated. He felt responsible for the younger man.

"I've talked to the agent in charge of you," Booth stated as he came back into the garage. His gun was in its holster. "He still doesn't know how you slipped out but he's agreed to transfer you here."

Rachel smiled. She'd hoped the agent wasn't going to be a hard nose.

"Will he be okay if he stays the night?" Mac wanted to know, temporarily ignoring the agent.

"I'm not a doctor or even a nurse but he shouldn't get any worse before now and then," Rachel said.

"Can we get him sent to the hospital in the morning?" Mac asked, looking at Booth.

"I'll phone the hospital and leave a message for Dr. Brackett. If an ambulance doesn't show up, I'll send him in with Johnny and Roy," Booth replied.

"Thank you. I'm going to go check on Bob." Mac caught hold of Rachel's arm and steered her through the door. He wasn't sure how many people were here but Brown obviously trusted the woman so he guessed he did too.

Once again at Bob's bed, Mac indicated the chair for Rachel while he took up a position against the wall at the head of the bed. The youngest Unit member was sleeping fitfully but at least he was sleeping. At this point that was probably the best they could do for him.

The evening passed slowly. Rachel was acutely aware of the presence of the additional man. The others didn't bother her because they were asleep. Mac sitting by the wall, keeping an eye on everyone made her a little uncomfortable. Finally she couldn't stand it any longer.

"I'm going to go take a shower since no one else is awake. Can you watch him?" She knew it was a stupid question. Of course Mac would watch over his friend but she felt the need to ask anyway.

"Sure. Take as long as you'd like," Mac replied. He would welcome the time alone with the youngest Unit member. He wanted to ask him questions he didn't want overheard and do a more thorough examine of his condition. He was sure the doctor knew medicine but things had advanced somewhat in the last thirty odd years.

"Thanks." Without waiting for him to change his mind, Rachel stood up and quietly made her way down the aisle toward the door. She pulled everything she needed out of the closet in the garage that she hid it in. Rachel didn't trust the Barbie twins to not mess with her stuff, such as it was. Then she slipped into the shower room and locked the door behind her.

It had been a while since she'd taken a long shower. Now that someone was watching Bob and there was no one awake that would need the facilities (she hoped). Rachel took her time. It felt wonder having the warm water running over her hair and skin. She gave into the sensations and closed her eyes.

Time passed. How much Rachel wasn't sure nor did she really care. Humming to herself, she carefully dried herself and got dressed.


	12. Chapter 12

Just as Rachel reached for the lock on the locker room door, the door rattled. Startled, she took a step back before she managed to recover from her shock. "What the..." she heard Roy's muffled voice on the other side.

"Sorry," Rachel called out quietly as she scrambled to unlock the door. As she pushed it open her cheeks burned with embarrassment. This was the first time she'd been caught.

"Do you do that often?" Roy asked as he held the door open. It was the first time he could remember finding this particular door locked. In an all male station house there really wasn't much need. But then, with the arrival of the displaced, particularly the Barbie twins, he'd come to appreciate the presence of that particular piece of hardware. The senior paramedic was just surprised that Rachel had felt the need to use it too.

"Yeah, every time I take a shower. Sorry," Rachel replied, feeling very uncomfortable. Since the incident with Samantha, she hadn't really had any time alone with the man.

"No need to be sorry. Do you usually take showers this time of night?" Roy had suddenly realized that in all the time she'd been here, he hadn't seen Rachel take a single shower. Yet she was always clean.

"It's when it's quiet. I don't like to lock the door when the there are people around if that makes any sense," Rachel admitted. Trying to be unobtrusive, Rachel took three steps to her left in an attempt to move beyond the man. She trusted Roy but she didn't like feeling cornered as she did at the moment.

"Yes, it makes sense to me. I was just going to get a glass of water when I noticed that man sitting by Bob. Who is he?" Roy had felt a momentary panic when he realized that Rachel wasn't watching the ill man and that he had no idea who the man watching him was.

"His name is Mac Gerhardt. He works with Bob. Mac wants to take him to the hospital in the morning," Rachel replied. As casually as she could, she took another three steps toward the equipment bay.

"Do you think Booth will let him? I mean, despite all of us hoping that he would allow himself to be admitted, I'm not sure the government will appreciate separating you. They put all of you here together for a reason. I just haven't been able to figure out what the reason is yet." Roy had been pondering the plight of the displaced, even on his off days. As random as it seemed to be, he wasn't sure that it really was. The Winchester brothers were both here. Nick and Grissom worked together and knew each other before they came to be here. Obviously not all of it was random.

"Booth said he would," Rachel countered. She didn't like where Roy's thinking was leading them, especially if it happened to be true.

"I'm sure he assumes he can. I don't know. I don't mean to upset you or any of the others, I've just been thinking." With a crooked grin, Roy headed into the locker room, the glass of water forgotten.

Thinking hard, Rachel stood and stared at the door for several moments before heading back into the dorm room.

Early the next morning Booth spent several minutes on the phone arguing with his superiors. Roy's hunch had been right. The people in charge weren't so keen to have the group separated. Until Bob's condition was life threatening, they didn't want to send the man to the hospital. They were quite content to have Dr. Brackett come and check on him on his own time.

Booth was extremely disappointed in his superiors' decision. He understood that manpower was strained to the limit with the appearance of all these people but he didn't like the idea of threatening Bob's life because of lack of resources. But orders were orders. Taking a deep breath, Booth smoothed his suit jacket, stood up and left the office. This was not going to be a fun conversation.

"Are we ready?" Mac asked as soon as the FBI agent entered the bunk room. The firemen had left the room half an hour before and were ready to face another day. Ed was still asleep on his bed along the back wall. The Winchester boys had also been awake since the firemen stumbled out of the room but had kept their eyes closed and feigned sleep. Nick and Grissom were all ready in deep conversation with Spencer as the three of them exited the room.

"It's a no go. I'm sorry," Booth admitted. He had trouble facing Rachel and Mac. It felt like a personal failure.

"What do you mean?" Rachel demanded from her position beside Bob's bed. The military man was sleeping soundly despite all of the activity around him. The dark bags under his eyes had virtually disappeared and he had more colour than the night before. As much as this all gave Rachel hope, she really wanted to see Bob in the hospital. Now that they finally had the man agreeing to go, she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"My superiors are refusing to allow me to move him. They say that there isn't enough manpower to protect him while he's there. I'm sorry. I tried every tactic I could think of and they still refused," Booth informed them. He didn't much like the look Mac was giving him but there wasn't anything he could do about it. Without waiting for their responses, he turned and left the room.

"That's just great," Rachel grumbled. She glanced down at the sleeping man again, feeling helpless. She didn't much like that feeling.

"I can't say I'm surprised," Mac admitted. Frustrated he ran a hand through his close cropped hair and resumed his position at the head of Bob's bed. It looked like they weren't going to be going anywhere for a while.

"I just can't believe it. Do they not care at all about his health?" Rachel had stood up and was pacing back and forth down the aisle. It suddenly seemed like she had a lot of pent up energy. It was either energy or exhaustion threatening, she wasn't sure which.

"Logistics take precedence. That's true of most things. Besides, I don't think he's any worse than he was last night. Will Dr. Brackett be in today to check on him if we don't take him to the hospital?" Mac asked. He was crouched against the back wall. Shutting his eyes, he allowed his head to lie back until it rested against the cool surface. He hadn't slept in more than 24 hours. It was beginning to catch up with him.

"I'm not sure but probably. Dr. Brackett was worried," Rachel said. Further discussion was pre-empted by the arrival of Johnny and Roy. Booth had filled the others in.

"You two must be exhausted," Johnny said. "Get some rest. We'll wake you if the tones go off."

Unsure of what else to do, Rachel moved over to Roy's bed. The paramedic had all ready changed the sheets in anticipation of the next shift coming in. For some reason it was the only bed Rachel was really comfortable sleeping on. Too tired to care, Rachel simply collapsed on top of the blankets and was asleep in moments.

"We'll watch him," Roy assured the crouching man. He had a hard edge about him that seemed to fit in well with Bob's demeanour. It kind of made the senior paramedic nervous though.

"If he wakes up or anything changes, wake me immediately," Mac ceded. He needed sleep if he was to take care of his junior team member. The paramedics had been tending him since Bob came here, they could continue to do so for a few more hours. He'd set up a proper rotation when he was rested.

Roy nodded his head in agreement. A quick glance at the two men and Mac moved over to the bed beside Rachel and was instantly asleep on top of the covers.

"What about chores?" Johnny asked as he took up position in Rachel's chair. Even when they weren't on runs, all firemen on shift had other duties to perform.

"I'll do them," Roy said. "At least until B shift comes in anyway."


	13. Chapter 13

B shift came in and relieved their counterparts. The presence of Mac made them a little more nervous than it had the others but they adjusted quickly.

Just as it seemed everything was returning to routine, the Federal agents and the doctors reappeared. Agent Booth tried to prevent them from running their tests, the same ones as last time but he was over ruled by his superior.

"Does this happen often?" Ed asked. He'd wound up sitting beside a blurry eyed Rachel. The agents had woken everyone up, including Bob.

"This is the second time. It's not much fun but if we cooperate it goes by faster. As the Borg say "Resistance is futile," Rachel responded. She just wanted to climb back into bed. It was nearly all she could do to keep her eyes open. On the chair across from her, Mac looked as if he'd slept for hours and was completely awake. She wished she had that ability. Beside Mac, Bob sat curled up as much as his tall frame would allow him. He was looking better but was still suffering from the occasional chill.

"That sounds wonderful," Ed said as he watched the doctors troop Grissom and Nick out of the common area. Neither man looked particularly thrilled.

"I suppose it makes sense. We've appeared out of nowhere and say we're from the future. I'd want to do tests on us too. I'm assuming that they didn't find anything from the last tests and want to see if they get a repeat of the same results," Rachel spoke softly. Three of the doctors had entered the room and were starting with the closest people to the entrance. They were taking vital signs and recording them.

"That doesn't really make me feel any better," Ed muttered. He hated going to the doctor at the best of times. Being forced into an examination wasn't his idea of a fun time.

The firemen of B shift were kept out of the common area and the bunk house. That left them hanging around the garage and outside the building. The additional people were keeping them from doing their duties for the day. The captain was not pleased but there wasn't much else he could do. The government had spoken.

It was a slow morning for calls, further adding to the frustration. Just as the Captain of B ship was ready to shout at the agents to get out of his station, the klaxon went off. A large industrial fire had four stations heading out. Relief and anxiety coursed through the six firemen's bodies as they raced to their perspective vehicles. Then they rolled out.

Grissom and Nick were ushered back into the common area. Both men looked a little pale and none too comfortable as they sat on the chairs furthest from the door. Neither of them looked at the others or said a word.

Fear spiked through Rachel's system for the first time she could remember. Silently, she watched as the Barbie twins were escorted out.

The room was full of people. Three agents were in the room, one on each of the twp entrances to make sure no one made a run for it. The third agent was Booth who was pacing restlessly around the room. He stopped at the two men and crouched between them. From her position at the kitchen table, Rachel couldn't hear what they said but she did notice that the agent's face darkened.

Dean and Sam were in the corner of the room, quietly talking. Rachel could imagine what they discussing. If she knew them half as well as she thought, Dean was probably trying to figure out a way out of this while Sam was trying to keep his brother from doing something silly. She hoped the younger Winchester was successful.

"Have you ever thought about just leaving?" Ed asked, keeping his voice low. He glanced around at the agents to see if they were paying close attention.

"Where would we go?" Rachel wanted to know. The thought had definitely played through her mind but after the time she'd spent alone she didn't want to repeat the ordeal. "None of us have any money and those that had credit cards have had them taken away."

"There are enough fields outside of Los Angeles that food shouldn't be a problem. The same can be said for water. It's been so warm at night that we shouldn't have to worry about exposure. We could survive outside for quite a while before we had to worry about winter. Maybe by then we'll be back where we belong," Ed continued in earnest. He really didn't want to go through the examination and other tests. Being a member of Metro Homicide in Toronto, Ontario, he knew a few too many secrets that he didn't want to be forced to share.

"I've spent time here alone on the streets. It's not like camping in the wilds of Canada. There are people everywhere and not all of them are nice," Rachel replied. Nick had moved from where he was to sit closer to them. She wasn't sure if he'd overheard their conversation or if he was restless. It didn't really matter. She had a terrible urge to give the younger man a hug but she wasn't sure he'd appreciate it.

"I'm a cop. I know all about people," Ed responded.

"Maybe but I'm not sure I'm ready to take that chance," Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the Barbie twins. For once the duo was sedate, not saying a word as they resumed their seats. Under the make-up, they too appeared pale.

"Your turn," the doctor said, indicating the brothers.

"No way, man. One exam is enough," Dean shot back. He stepped toward the man, intent on protecting himself and his brother. The agent by the door leading to the garage pulled his gun out of his shoulder holster.

"Hey, hey. That won't be necessary," Booth said as he tried to come between the two men. "Dean. I know you don't want to do this and I can't say I blame you. But, you don't have a choice."

"There's always a choice," Dean shot back. He was turned slightly away from the doctor, trying to keep the agents in his line of sight. The hunter had all ready assessed the doctor and decided the two agents were his immediate threat. He was wrong.

"Dean!" Sam cried out as he lunged forward to protect his older brother. Before Dean had a chance to react, the doctor plunged a needle into his neck and depressed the plunger. In moments Dean was sinking to his knees. Sam caught his brother and tried to keep him on his feet without much success. "What did you give him?!"

"It's a sedative. It's fast acting so he shouldn't be down for more than half an hour," the doctor replied. Nodding to the nearest agent, he caught hold of the younger man's nearest arm and the two of them hauled him out. Sam paused long enough to glance around at the others before following. There was no way he was going to leave his insensate brother alone with these people.

The room remained silent for several moments. Booth stood in the middle of it, fuming. "Don't do anything stupid," he said to everyone in general before he too followed the Winchester brothers. He wanted to make sure nothing untoward was going to happen to them. He was skirting disobedience to his superior's orders but he couldn't help himself.

"Suddenly getting out doesn't seem like such a bad idea," Rachel said quietly to Ed. Not caring who heard, she turned her attention to the young man sitting near her. Nick was still looking very shaken up. "What did they do to you?"

"Tests," Nick replied cryptically. He had trouble looking the woman in the eye. The tests had been routine but the brutality used was not. The younger CSI was beginning to understand what some of his victims felt like. He'd only offered mild resistance but that had been enough for the doctors to resort to more drastic measures. He was sure he was going to be stiff in the morning.

"I get the feeling more than that happened," Rachel responded. "Do we really need to be worried?"

"No, not worried. Just be prepared. They're not pulling any punches today," Nick elaborated.

"I'm voting for running away. Anyone want to join me?" Rachel said, only half joking.


	14. Chapter 14

The day was as awful as Nick has said it would be. Rachel was exhausted by 2pm. All she wanted to do was go home. Home suddenly seemed so much farther away than it had in the morning hours. The doctors were finally done with her so she was allowed to go back to the common room.

Still feeling a little stunned, Rachel stood inside the door and looked around to see who else was there. The Barbie twins were huddled in the corner, both looking decidedly upset. Nick and Grissom were a few seats away, looking as stunned as she felt. The Winchester boys were seated two chairs over from Grissom. From their appearance this wasn't something terribly out of the ordinary. All though, Rachel was sure she was one of the doctors developing twin shiners. She had the feeling Dean hadn't been cooperative once the sedative wore off.

Ed was still with the doctors as was Mac. Bob was seated as close to the door as he could manage. He'd been feeling not bad until the doctors had started their poking and prodding. He glanced up at the woman as she stood in the doorway.

"Are you okay?" Bob asked. It felt kind of good to be worried about someone else for a change. Distantly Bob wondered how the doctors were fairing with Mac. He knew the man could be very uncooperative when he wanted to be.

"Yeah," Rachel replied as she moved to sit beside him. It seemed to take all of her energy to cover just that short distance. Running away wasn't going to be an option until she got her second wind. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," Bob replied. The untroubled sleep he'd had the night before had done wonders for him. Even after the doctors were finished he'd felt in better shape than he had for a while. That was definitely a good sign.

"This is suddenly not feeling like such a welcome place," Rachel muttered as she watched Ed enter the room and move over to the seats along the wall. Right behind him followed Spencer. The young man was looking very pale. He followed Ed and sat down beside him automatically.

"I have to agree with that," Bob stated.

Further conversation was prevented by the arrival of Mac, Ed and the doctors. Booth was right behind them, looking less than thrilled.

"We have finished our tests for the day. Thank you for your cooperation," the lead doctor stated. Rachel found it funny that he was the one with the two black eyes beginning to develop. He was definitely the one who deserved it.

Without another word, the doctor and his associates left the room. A heart beat later the members of B shift shuffled into the room. Right behind them followed the catering company. Everyone had missed lunch so they'd decided to serve it anyway.

"Are you all right?" the captain asked everyone in general. He was a red blooded American. This was the first time he could remember being mildly ashamed of that. It didn't sit well at all. General murmurs of assent and nods were the only reply.

"Okay. Well, let's have some lunch and try to make the most of the rest of the day," the captain said as the catering people set the meal out.

*****

Dean was in a foul mood for the rest of the day. The sedative had given him a headache that Aspirin and Tylenol wouldn't touch. He found the confines of the station house to be closer than usual. Even Sam was starting to really piss him off with all his theories of how they came to be here. What did it really matter? They were here now. They should be trying to find their Mom and Dad and keep them safe from the Yellow-eyed Demon. None of the rest of this mattered.

Growling under his breath, Dean headed out of the common room and headed out the door to stand on the driveway. The sun was still up but the smog diffused its intensity. Despite his jacket, a chill ran up his spine. The doctors would be back. They weren't happy with the answers the displaced people had given them. The elder Winchester brother didn't blame them. There were a few gaping holes in their stories. As much as he would love to warn them about 9 11 and a number of other tragedies they'd all agreed to keep their mouths shut. Star Trek aside, they knew that there were no telling what the ramifications would be if they did.

Tired of thinking, Dean kicked at the driveway pavement. They'd taken away all of the Winchester's weapons, even the small knife Dean kept tucked in his boot. Without them he was feeling naked. Even if they managed to give their FBI babysitters the slip, not a particularly hard task, they had no way to protect themselves. What dangers lie in wait was something Dean knew from their time but here and now was a mystery.

The door opened, Sam came out and stood beside his brother. A quick glance at the shorter man's man and he chose to stay quiet. Dean would talk when he was ready. Sam knew that being knocked out with a sedative would turn his older brother's usual bad mood worse.

"You okay?" Dean asked. Force of habit. The first thought Dean always had was whether his brother was okay. His own safety came as a distance second.

"Yeah. How about you?" Sam replied. From the pain in his brother's blue eyes, Sam knew he was suffering some ill effects from the drug. Silently he cursed the doctors.

"I'm fine," was Dean's automatic response. He'd have to be bleeding or have a limb hanging by a thread to admit otherwise.

"Let's go get some sleep. I feel like I haven't slept for days," the younger Winchester stated.

"Sure, why not." Sleep suddenly seemed like a very good idea. Maybe his head wouldn't feel like it was ready to explode when he woke up.

*****

The evening passed quietly. Most of the displaced people rested or slept. The day had been hard on them. Most of the men were in bed by 9pm. That left the members of B shift, Spencer, Ed and the Barbie twins in the common area. Rachel was watching over Bob while Mac slept.

"I could really go for a beer right about now," Ed stated. He and Spencer were seated by the firefighters watching an old television. The picture and sound were terrible compared to what they were accustomed to. Getting up to change between the four channels was very irritating as well. The Metro PD detective felt as though he were in the stone ages.

"Captain Stanley brought a few in for Dean but I think he drank them all," Spencer responded. The young genius was reading a book, still trying to come up with ideas. He flipped from page to page, running his hand down each. Two of the firemen were more engrossed in watching him than the sitcom on the grainy picture tube.

"Can you really read that fast?" the braver of the two asked. If that were true, the man would be finished the book in minutes, not hours like any of them.

"Huh?" Spencer looked up at the man, surprised by his question. "Yes, I do."

"How is that possible?" the fireman asked.

The conversation was pre-empted by the arrival of Booth. The FBI agent had spent the majority of his time arguing with his superiors. While he hadn't gained any brownie points with his bosses, he did manage to get their word that the doctors would not be back anytime soon.

"Where are the others?" the agent asked.

"Sleeping," was Ed's laconic response.

"I guess I'm not surprised," Booth admitted. He paused as he too realized what the younger man was doing. Shaking his head, he turned back to the blond cop. "The doctors won't be back for a while. I'm really sorry."

"Yeah, I got that earlier," Ed stated.

The klaxon went off, sending the firemen scrambling toward their vehicles. Booth moved out of their way or he would have been trampled in the doorway. The Barbie twins were looking at the Sears catalogues again. There wasn't much enthusiasm in their discussion or movements. Sighing, Booth went back to the captain's office. He was going to have to file a report, as always.

*****

The next morning A shift was back on. The men immediately picked up on the depression in the station. Even the firefighters were affected. The two captains conferred in the office while the rest of the men changed.

"What's going on?" Roy asked his B shift counterpart.

"The doctors were in yesterday. It was really hard on all of them. They refused to let Bob go to the hospital but he seems to be holding his own anyway," the paramedic from B shift replied. He was relieved to be going home to his own family. His days off had never looked so good.

"What did they want this time?" Johnny asked. He'd been listening in as he too donned his uniform.

"No idea. I think they're just looking for answers, same as the rest of them. Well, I hope you guys have a better shift than we did." With that the paramedic left.

"All of them must be going stir-crazy, I know I would if I were them. Think we should ask the captain to take some of them out on our runs? The fresh air might do them some good," Roy suggested.

Johnny tried to hide his surprise. Usually he was the one coming up with the stupid ideas. But then, maybe this idea wasn't so stupid after all.

"Sure, it's worth a try," Johnny stated as the two of them exited the room.


	15. Chapter 15

"Okay. We've gotten permission for two of you to ride with us on our runs today. One will have to go in the engine and one in the squad. We thought about drawing names or something and then we decided to let you decide among yourselves. So, who wants to come?" Johnny looked around at the still shell-shocked misplaced people. Booth had entered the room and was waiting for them to show any signs of interest. He was just thinking that none of them were going to accept the offer when Spencer raised his hand.

Spencer was a genius. He had the degrees and the IQ to prove it but at the moment all he felt was really vulnerable. Logically he knew it was because he had no control over his current situation. Spending all his waking hours trying to figure out a way to get back to Quantico and the BAU wasn't helping him cope with the reality of his new life. Spencer wasn't sure that he really did want to cope or adjust to whatever was happening to them. That would be like giving up hope of ever getting back to where he belonged. Volunteering to ride around on a fire engine or rescue squad would get his mind off of himself. He could tell from the surprised look on Fireman Gage's face that he was the last person they'd expected to volunteer. So be it. It was better than smashing his head against a stone wall all day.

"All right, Dr. Reid. Is there anyone else?" Johnny looked around the room. The atmosphere of gloom and fear was depressing. They were going to have their work cut out for them.

"I'll go," Sam offered. Dean looked at his brother sideways. He was very good at covering his feelings otherwise he would have responded in surprise to his kid brother volunteering. Usually the Winchester brothers tried to keep a low profile. The last thing they'd do would be to draw attention to themselves from anyone in authority.

"What?" Sam muttered to his brother. He could feel his disapproval like a wave. "I've always wanted to ride on a fire engine."

"Whatever, dude," Dean responded. He looked around the room. The others were barely paying attention to them. It was going to be a long, boring day for the elder Winchester with his brother gone. But, he thought, looking at the Barbie twins, there were always other ways of being entertained.

"Come on. We'll get you suited up," Roy said opening the door to the garage. The two civilians may wind up staying in the vehicles if they do get a call but they would still have to wear turnout coats and helmets. He led the duo over to the equipment closet and pulled out two helmets and then started looking for a coat that would fit their vastly different frames.

Roy looked at the one closest to him. Dr. Reid was about his height, five ten or so, but he was very slight of build. Selecting the smallest size they had, he held it out to the younger man. "This should fit you, try it on." Sam was taller than him and broad across the shoulders so Roy pulled out the large for him.

_Somehow this feels like it should be wrong _Sam thought. His mother had died in a demonic fire that left them homeless as had his girlfriend and here he was excited to be slipping on a fireman's coat. Sam couldn't help it though. There was still a little boy inside of him that really wanted to be a fireman. He slipped the heavy canvas jacket over his shoulders and made sure it would do up.

"Well, you two look like real firemen," Johnny said. Sam was the spitting image but Spencer looked like an overgrown kid in his favourite dress up jacket. Grinning, Johnny went back into the closest and got the next size up. The jacket fit him in the body but Spencer's arms were hanging out the sleeves, a definite fire hazard. "Here, this one might fit a little bit better."

"Thanks," Spencer said as he shrugged the first jacket off and accepted the second one. The other one was too big but at least he didn't feel like the geeky kid anymore.

Just as the two civilians were going to slip the jackets back off, the tones sounded. "Dr. Reid, if you want you can ride with us and Sam can ride with the engine," Roy said as he made his way to the driver side of the squad. Johnny caught hold of Spencer's nearest arm and pulled the slight man toward the passenger side. Clamping his helmet on his head, Sam ran for the engine.

Mike was the first one there as Captain Stanley wrote down the address of the response before acknowledging the call on the radio. "Here, get in behind me," the engineer said as he pulled the second door open for the younger man. Sam scrambled up into his seat and waited for the other firemen as Mike took his position behind the wheel.

The garage door rumbled open as Marco, Chet and Captain Stanley scrambled into the engine. Roy put the squad in gear and sent it out into the street, closely followed by Big Red. Even with the helmet on the sound of the sirens was almost deafening. Despite Sam's best efforts a thrill ran through him as they thundered down the Los Angeles streets. Marco and Chet grinned at each other as they spied the sparkle in the younger man's eyes. They could relate to that feeling all too well. Neither one of them would admit it but they still felt the same thrill every time they headed out on a run in Big Red.

"Are you okay, Dr. Reid?" Johnny asked. He'd glanced at the younger man out of the corner of his eye and thought he looked a little green around the gills. The last thing they needed was for him to throw up. There was a fire in an industrial complex. They didn't have the time to stop.

"Please, call me Reid or Spencer it's what I'm used to. And yes, I'm fine," Reid replied. He was used to barrelling down the streets with the sirens flashing but for some reason this felt that much more real. His heart was in his throat as they twisted and turned down the streets.

"That's good. When we reach the scene, stay in the squad. We need to assess the situation before we can let you out, okay?" Roy instructed. All ready he could see the header of smoke. The smoke was nearly black, never a good sign. He didn't want to have to worry about the civilian. That was the last thing they needed.

Reid didn't bother to answer. He just sat and watched as the cloud got bigger and bigger as they moved closer with every moment. Sitting in the squad suddenly seemed like a really good idea.


	16. Chapter 16

_I was trying to avoid writing too much about fires. I don't know a lot about how they'd really work at fighting one so all of the inaccuracies are my own. Please have patience all of you who actually know what you're talking about!_

_Susanne_

Engine 51 and Squad 51 were the first ones on the scene. Captain Stanley met up with the manager of the building. They'd had enough warning to evacuate the first three floors of the four floor building. The people on the fourth floor had to options left to them, scamper down the smoke filled staircase and brave the flames on the third floor or go up to the roof.

Clambering out of the squad, Johnny and Roy quickly donned their turnout coats, tanks and masks. They were the first line of defence for the people caught inside.

"DeSoto, Gage, check the first three floors, we're going to have to wait for the ladder truck to get any higher," Captain Stanley informed them as they drew near to his position. "The fire is contained on the east side of the building but that's where the stair case is. Be careful in there."

"Sure thing, Cap," Johnny responded. He paused long enough to glance through the windshield of the squad to make sure Reid was still there and then they bounded toward the front entrance of the building.

"Marco, Chet, get the lines set up and follow them in," Stanley ordered the rest of his crew. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Sam hanging out the door of Big Red. Hank thought for a moment he was going to have to order the civilian back into the confines of the engine. Then he realized the boy was stationary, he just wanted to get a better view of what was going on. At least Hank hoped that's what he was doing.

The two firemen grabbed hoses off of the back of the engine and set about rigging them up. While he waited for the other crews to show up, Hank moved over to where Mike was checking the gauges on the side of the engine. "Keep an eye on him, okay?" Hank said quietly to his engineer. "I don't want to have to go searching for him when all this is over."

"Yes, Cap," Mike responded, a small smile on his face. He glanced up into the engine compartment to make sure he could still see the boy then turned his attention back to his own work. Marco had attached the hose to the nearest water hydrant. Quickly, efficiently he primed the lines and waited. As an engineer he seemed to spend a lot of time waiting.

Johnny and Roy moved quickly through the building. The first floor was offices so they were able to verify that they were empty rapidly. Once they were sure they took the time to mark an x on the door so any of the other crews coming in would know that the room was checked. The air was quite clear on the first floor, also making searching a whole lot easier. Moving over to the stairway to gain the second floor the two paramedics were immediately enveloped by thick clouds of greyish, black smoke.

"Let's hope the floor isn't this bad," Johnny yelled to his partner as they made their way up the stairs. The further up they went the worse it got.

"Let's hope the next two floors really have been cleared," Roy replied. He pulled the door open leading to the second floor and was immediately relieved to see that the smoke had barely made an appearance here yet. Roy started on the right hand side of the hallway, banging on doors and making his way inside. Johnny was on the other side.

The second floor was apartments. There were more places to hide. Searching took a lot longer than either paramedic would have liked but they had to be thorough. Roy was on his second apartment when he found a terrified cat huddled under the bed. He still had more rooms and apartments to search but he couldn't bring himself to leave the terrified animal. Despite there being little smoke on this floor yet the orange tabby was panting and growling at him.

"Come here, little one," Roy said as he got down on all fours and tried to fish the animal out from the confines under the bed. He tried to be a calming influence on the cat but she kept hissing, panting and backing further away from his gloved hands. "I'm not going to hurt you!"

Johnny had finished his side of the hallway and started working on Roy's when he realized that his partner hadn't marked off the apartments beyond the first one. Thinking he'd meet the older paramedic as he made his way along the corridor, Johnny started at the far end.

There were four apartments on each side of the hall. Johnny had finished the second one on Roy's side. Scared and nervous about the disappearance of his partner, Johnny made his way cautiously into the third apartment. His heart in his throat, the junior paramedic searched the living room and kitchen before making his way into the first bedroom.

"Roy!" Johnny cried out as he stared at his partner lying sprawled on the floor. Roy's helmet was pushed onto his back while his head was firmly under the bed in the room. In a heartbeat he crossed the distance between them and tried to pull the slightly heavier man to his feet.

"What?!" Roy reacted to his partner's frantic hands. He'd just managed to capture the cat and was sliding it under his turn out jacket when Johnny rolled him onto his back.

"What the hell are you doing?" Johnny demanded as he stared unbelieving at his partner. The cat was calmer but still panting. Weakly it meowed at the dark haired paramedic before burrowing deeper inside the canvas coat.

"I couldn't leave it here," Roy responded somewhat sheepishly.

"Okay, whatever. Let's get up to the third floor before our tanks run out and we have to get new ones," Johnny said, shaking his head. In all the years he'd known the older man, he'd never seen him quite this way about a cat. It was one thing when an anxious owner was screaming and crying from the street but no one had seemed to miss the animal except Roy.

The third floor was harder to search. As soon as the paramedics opened the stairwell door to go up to the next floor the smoke reduced visibility to a few inches in front of their masks. Reaching down onto the steps, Johnny caught hold of the twin hoses snaking up to the third floor and used them as a guide. How they were going to do a proper search was beyond him but they'd definitely give it their all.

They were reduced to crawling through the apartments on the third floor. The flames weren't so bad in the first two that they couldn't have walked but then they couldn't see what they were searching. Out in the hallway Marco and Chet were hosing down everything in sight while some of the other firefighters used axes to break open the walls. The fire was running along the walls, even the paramedics could tell that.

In the near darkness of the smoke, Roy fumbled through the apartments, checking closets, under beds and anywhere else a person (or animal) could hide. The cat had taken up residence in his right coat sleeve, clinging precariously to his shirt. Roy tried to make sure that he didn't injure the creature but he was going to have to make sure he got it outside before it completely succumbed to the bad air.

Finally, Roy finished the last apartment on his side of the hall. He'd just closed the door and marked an x on it when he heard the beeping of his air tank. He had enough oxygen to get outside and replaced the tank with a new one but just barely. Roy turned to check on Johnny just as his partner came out of the last apartment. Without saying a word, he motioned to his tank. Nodding his head in understanding Johnny followed his partner off of the third floor.

Just as Roy stumbled out onto the front stairs on his way to squad the last of his air puffed into his mask. Making sure he was far enough away from the fire to not be an obstacle, Roy pulled the mask off over his head. Behind him Johnny did the same thing as his own tank ran out as well.

Opening the door to the squad, Roy reached into his right sleeve and pulled the cat out. "Take care of this," he said as he deposited the animal in Spencer's lap. Somewhat startled, the young professor stared at the animal in shock for a moment before he carefully reached down and stroked the smoky fur.

"How far did you get?" Captain Stanley asked as he joined the paramedics. Roy and Johnny were both removing the used tanks and replacing them with new ones.

"Floors one through three are clear, Cap," Johnny answered. He had the other tank on and was just hooking it up.

"Good. What's the air like in there?" Hank asked.

"The stairway is filling up with smoke but the first and second floors are still clear. The third floor is completely smoke filled," Roy responded. He too had the spare tank on and was making sure it was properly connected before he went back in.

"The ladder company is working at clearing the roof and the fourth floor. Once they get the survivors down I'd like you to treat them. There'll probably be some smoke inhalation," Stanley ordered. He knew the men wanted to go back in but he needed them outside for the moment.

"Sure thing, Cap," Johnny said as he slipped the tank back off his shoulders and turned back to the squad. He opened the nearest door and began pulling out the boxes they were going to need. Roy was beside him in an instant. With the confidence of men who'd worked together for a long time, the paramedics worked quickly and quietly.

"What do I do with this?" Spencer asked through the lowered window. The cat was breathing better and had started to purr at his ministrations but he wasn't used to dealing with animals. The doctor had no idea what to do with the creature now that it was more aware.

"When we have the chance we'll ask the police men on scene if anyone's missing theirs," Roy told him. Without waiting for further questions, Johnny and Roy moved a short distance on the other side of the squad and set up their triage area. Within minutes the first survivors arrived and they were too busy to worry about anything but the people in front of them.


	17. Chapter 17

_Hi. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update this story. I was kind of stuck on it, not sure where to go exactly. I started writing it again in the last couple of days and this came out. I don't know where it's going but it's definitely a change of pace! Please let me know what you think._

_Susanne_

The fire continued to rage despite the firefighters' best efforts. They just thought they had it under control when it would flare somewhere else. Usually in a spot that was completely unexpected.

Johnny and Roy were kept busy tending to the residents that had made their way to the roof. Mostly it was minor stuff like small burns or minor smoke inhalation. As a precaution, though, they sent everyone on to Rampart to have them checked out more thoroughly.

In the cab of the squad, Reid tried to keep the kitten happy. He was torn between doing as the firemen had ordered and being of help. He could see that while the paramedics were busy they weren't overwhelmed. It rankled though, sitting in the cab being a spectator. Dr. Reid was too used to being in the middle of the action.

The driver's side door opened and Sam slid in. He was tired of sitting alone but he wasn't willing to risk Captain Stanley's anger by disobeying orders. While he wasn't in the engine anymore, he was still in a vehicle.

"What do you have there?" Sam asked as he glanced at the small ball of fur clawing at Spencer's unprotected hands. The cat was bored and found the young man's long thin fingers a perfect target to stalk.

"Um," Reid responded as he pushed his hands into his pants pockets. It was unbelievable how sharp the little creature's claws were. All ready his hands were bloody and stinging. "Roy and John rescued it from the fire. They didn't know what else to do with it."

"Well, I'd say it's doing really well then," Sam stated. He used the tie on the hood of his bunny hug to tease the animal and distract it from chewing on the young doctor's elbow. "How are you doing?"

Sam had spent hours discussing possibilities for getting them home with the young doctor but hadn't actually spent any time getting to know him. Reid was a few inches shorter than Sam but a good fifty pounds lighter. His brown hair was a little long for an FBI agent and it curled around his lean face as he looked out the window. While they were about the same age, Sam felt years older and had a need to protect the slim man. Not something he was used to feeling. Usually it was Dean that did the protecting.

"What are you doing here?" Reid asked. He had watched Sam and his brother. He knew that they were extremely tight and battle hardened. The young doctor knew that they had been through hell together, figuratively and, if you believed what they said, literally. They were hunters much the same as he and the team of the BAU were hunters. The main difference was that they weren't sanctioned and looked for answers in places Reid would never consider. He didn't want to be cross with the man but he didn't quite understand why he'd come over to the squad. They were both safe inside the vehicles, why had he felt the need to come here?

"I was bored," Sam stated. It wasn't exactly true. He had felt the need to make sure the slight man was okay for reasons beyond his comprehension.

"Ouch!" Sam gasped as the kitten sank its claws deep into the flesh of his right hand. The little creature was pretty wound up. It was speeding around the cab, slashing at the men's legs and arms on its way by.

"She's a little hyper," Reid apologized, like it was his fault. He made as if to grab the cat away from Sam but he was brought up short.

"It's okay," Sam assured him. "I would be a little hyper too if someone had just pulled me out of a fire."

The two were so involved in the cat and the goings on out the passenger door that neither of them was prepared for the driver's side door to open. Turning, Sam found a gun pointed at his chest.

"Get out," the man holding the gun ordered. He used the gun for emphasis. "Not a word."

"What?" Sam said, surprised. Beside him Reid was reaching for the door release.

"I said, get out." The gun smacked Sam in the face before he had a chance to react. Stunned, he felt the man catch hold of his left arm and pull him out of the cab.

"I wouldn't do that," the voice said above him. Sam was tasting blood and stars were still spinning around his head as he tried to force his body off of the pavement. There was a grunt above him and then someone landed on top of him, knocking the wind out of him.

Feet appeared in Sam's line of sight, four pairs of them. He felt someone catch hold of his arms and pull him to his feet. He struggled against the hands, not knowing what they wanted but not caring either. A fist struck him in the stomach and on the side of the head almost simultaneously. The world turned black.

Reid struggled off of the other man. Rough hands caught hold of him and pulled him to his feet. "Not a word," the man with the gun said. The four of them had a military bearing about them. They were all dressed in long sleeved shirts and jeans but the young genius got the feeling that it wasn't what they were used to wearing. He was pushed toward a van parked a short distance away. Two of the men picked Sam up and began dragging the unconscious boy toward the van as well.

"What the hell?" a familiar voice behind Reid demanded. In an instant the man with the gun turned it on Roy.

"We weren't planning on taking you with us but since you've volunteered your services, you may be of assistance," the man said brandishing the gun.

The paramedic had been coming around to the far side of the squad to get some supplies he needed. Needless to say he was shocked to find Sam and Reid being dragged away by four men he'd never seen before. Not bothering to wait for Roy to agree, the man with the gun struck him in the head with it. Better unconscious like Sam, than a nuisance.

Before they had a chance to move the downed paramedic, Mike Stoker, standing at the gauges of Big Red saw the sudden movement. Glancing over, his mouth dropped open as he witnessed Reid being pushed into the van followed by a lifeless Sam. Then the men were turning their attention to a fireman sprawled in his turnout coat and helmet on the ground.

"Damn it," the man in charge swore. He'd spied the engineer. Pointing his gun at the man, he put a finger to his lips and motioned for him to join them. This was getting out of hand quickly but he couldn't afford to leave the man here. He'd seen their faces and knew what they were driving.

Mike stood frozen for a brief moment and then he raised the handy talkie in his hand. Not liking what he was seeing, the gunman moved the gun away from Mike's direction and pointed it at Roy's head. The threat was clear.

In the controlled pandemonium of the fire, no one heard or noticed the action taking place on the far side of the squad. Mike took the time to glance at Johnny who was still busily tending the victims of the fire before he put the radio down and slowly headed toward the man with the gun. He and Roy would be missed eventually but not right away. Afraid for his friend and fellow firefighter, Stoker covered the distance faster as the gunman was becoming impatient.

"What do you want?" the engineer asked, staring at the gun still pointed at Roy's head. An ugly bruise was beginning to show on the side of the paramedic's head and a cut had started to bleed freely.

"Pick him up," the man barked. The rest of his men were still busy securing the two in the van. The taller one was unconscious but he wasn't willing to take the chance of him coming around and causing trouble. Hesitantly, the engineer pulled Roy up into a fireman's hold and carried him toward the waiting vehicle.


	18. Chapter 18

As soon as they got into the van, the men inside pulled a sack over Reid's and Mike's head. They'd only brought two of them but it turned out to be just the right number. Roy and Sam were still unconscious from being pistol whipped. The back of the van was empty of everything. Two of the men had climbed in after Mike and Roy while the other two climbed into the captain seats up front. Reid and Mike, now hooded, were pushed along the far side of the metal wall. Roy and Sam were secured with tape over their eyes, around their wrists and their ankles. No use taking chances.

Through the sacks, Reid could make out the men's muffled conversation but it did little to enlighten him on why they'd been kidnapped. He had no doubt that the men had been looking for Sam and himself. Whether they were the particular targets or if they would have been satisfied with any of the displaced people was another question he didn't have the answer to. He felt someone catch hold of his hands and bind them, followed by his ankles. Whoever they were, they'd come prepared. Beside him, Reid could feel that the engineer, Mike Stoker, was similarly being bound.

The van rumbled over something, sending tremors through the metal they were sitting on. Reid figured it was a railroad track. How far away was the nearest rail crossing he wondered. He'd seen the map of Los Angeles hanging on the wall in the garage of Station 51. Desperately he tried to remember where they'd stopped and the surrounding area.

Something cold dug into his side, interrupting his thoughts. "Don't get any ideas," the leader growled into his left ear. "There's no getting away. We'd rather have you dead then gone."

A chill of fear settled into the young doctor's stomach. There was a degree of threat and truth there that he'd rarely had to deal with directly. All of the other situations he'd found himself in while being a profiler had been to some extent in his own control. Even with Henkel he'd still been able to use his observational abilities to get messages to his team mates that ultimately resulted in his rescue. Here there was no one looking for him that was used to his idiosyncrasies and would understand when he was giving them clues. Would anyone here be looking for him? At least Sam had his brother Dean. There was no way the elder Winchester was going to let this go. He was too fiercely protective of his younger brother to be all right with not knowing where Sam was.

That brotherly love and the fact that these men had kidnapped the two firefighters along with them was his only hope. Someone surely would be searching for the engineer and paramedic once they realized they were missing?

The patient lying before him was suffering from mild smoke inhalation and minor burns to his hands and face. Johnny was in the process of cleaning the burns with normal saline when a ball of fur jumped into his lap. Startled, he almost batted the creature away as it tried to crawl up his turn out coat before he looked closer. It was the orange tabby Roy'd left with Spencer Reid. 'What the hell?' he thought as he pulled the small animal off of his jacket and tucked it under his arm.

"I'll be right back," he said to the man he'd been working on. The man nodded his understanding as he sank back down onto the blanket. He was suddenly exhausted.

Standing up, Johnny made his way around the side of the squad. It dawned on him that Roy had left a few minutes before to get more gauze and saline solution but he hadn't come back. Rounding the rear of the squad, Johnny found the passenger door open and Roy's helmet lying on the ground a foot away.

"What the hell?" he said out loud. He nearly dropped the cat in his disbelief but it clung to him frantically. "Roy?"

Coming to the open door, Johnny looked inside to find it empty. Spencer was gone too. From the blood on the ground Johnny had the feeling that the lanky young man hadn't gone willingly. Turning, he looked toward the engine, maybe Mike had seen something. Ice began flowing through his veins. Mike wasn't there.

Absently, Johnny placed the cat back into the squad and quickly shut the door. He ran over to the engine, his patients momentarily forgotten. He'd been on the last couple anyway and none of the current injuries were life threatening. Johnny pulled open the door to the engine. Sam Winchester should be inside. It was empty.

Fear burning in his stomach, Johnny lifted up the handy talkie he'd had clutched in his hand and keyed it open. "Squad 51 to Engine 51, come in Engine 51," he said as he stared at the large vehicle. Something was very wrong here. Coming out of the temporary paralysis, he swung around and began to scan the fire scene. Maybe they were all gathered by the captain or something. Maybe.

"Engine 51," he heard Captain Stanley say.

"Cap, this is Johnny. Something's happened. I think Stoker, DeSoto, Dr. Reid and Sam Winchester are missing."

In a moment's notice the police men who had been keeping the on lookers back had to switch gears and start searching for the missing men. Upon hearing Johnny's explanation, Captain Stanley had used to radio to check for the two firemen. Dismayed, he relayed the information to battalion and then turned to Vince.

All it had taken was a few minutes of inattention. Four men were missing. Vince felt terrible. The Los Angeles Police officer was stunned. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Quickly he spread the news to the other officers working the scene. No one had seen anything.

"I'm not looking forward to explaining this to Dean," Hank muttered to himself. Or Joanne for that matter, he added silently.

"How about Agent Booth?" Chet asked. The four remaining firemen were standing around Big Red, still trying to deal with what had happened. Johnny had gotten the last of the victims loaded into ambulances and on their way to Rampart. All of them were being sent as a precaution but none were in need of monitoring so he'd allowed the ambulance attendants to handle the transport. Rampart had agreed.

The thought of explaining how they'd managed to lose two of the displaced to the over protective agent wasn't a happy one. Frustrated, Captain Stanley pulled the helmet off his head and ran his gloved hand through his hair while he tried to think. Battalion was sending someone out to evaluate what had happened. In the meantime Station 51 was taken out of the rotation. The person from Battalion would make the decision on whether to take the whole shift off.

The fire had finally been knocked down. The remaining engines were busy taking out hot spots in the rubble that was left but there was no immediate danger to the surrounding buildings. The crew of Station 51 was no longer needed to finish the work. They just lounged against the side of the engine. Johnny was sitting on the running board, his elbows resting on his knees and his head hanging down.

"It's not your fault, Johnny," Hank said. He knew the younger man. He knew that he would take the responsibility for the whole episode. If anyone was responsible, it was him. He was the captain of the station. He was supposed to know everything that was going on. How could he not notice that two of his firemen, his closest friends were being taken away?

"I was right there, Cap. I should have seen or heard something," Johnny responded. He didn't bother to look up. He felt like the world was on his shoulders.

"With all the engines and the hoses going you were lucky to hear what your patients were telling you," Hank said.

"That's no excuse," Johnny muttered. "Roy was gone for over five minutes. I should have noticed."

Further conversation was pre-empted by the arrival of a red car from Battalion.


	19. Chapter 19

The phone rang back at the Station. Since none of the firemen were there to answer it, Agent Booth lifted the receiver. "Station 51, agent Booth," he said. The Station had been gone for some time. He'd been listening to the radio chatter so he knew something was up, just not what.

The world shifted under his feet as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line. "What??" Booth demanded. How could they lose them? They were just at a fire, weren't they?

"What's wrong?" Grissom asked from the common room. The other refugees were sitting around the room, reading or watching TV. The Barbie twins were still looking at the catalogues, completely unaware that anything was amiss.

Rather than answer the man, Booth held his hand up to forestall any further questions as he listened intently to what the person on the phone was telling him. The concern in the older man's demeanour infected the others in the room.

"Yeah, let me know as soon as you find anything out," Booth finally said. He put the phone back on the cradle and turned to face the people in the common room. Booth took a moment to glance at each of the face in turn. The last one he looked at was Dean. This was not going to be good.

"What?" Dean demanded. He knew something was wrong with Sam. He'd felt it for the last half hour but had spent the time trying to convince him that he was imagining things.

"Dr. Spencer Reid and Sam Winchester are missing," Booth stated simply. "Firemen Roy DeSoto and Mike Stoker also appear to be missing."

Rachel had just walked into the room. She and Mack had been resting in the bunk house, still trying tecause o catch up on the sleep they were missing by watching over Bob. The younger man didn't really need either of them to keep watch but old habits were hard to break. "You can't be serious," she said, looking at the agent like he'd developed a second or third head.

"Unfortunately, the firemen on scene haven't been able to find any of them. Spencer and Sam were apparently in the squad during the fire but then they were gone. The two firemen were working near the squad and have gone missing as well. The police are still doing an investigation so hopefully we'll know more in an hour or two," Booth said. He felt the eyes of everyone in the dayroom staring at him.

The elder Winchester had paused for a few heartbeats, and then he was headed toward the bunk house.

"Where do you think you're going?" Booth demanded as he caught hold of the man as he blew by him.

"I'm going to go find them," Dean replied as he tried to brush by the man. If the federal agent thought he was going to stop him from finding his brother, he had another thing coming.

"No. You're not," Booth replied, his hand resting on his side arm.

"You and what army is going to stop me?" Dean growled. He'd seen the other man moving toward his weapon but that didn't scare him.

Before Booth even had a chance to reply four more men entered the dayroom, weapons clipped to their belts. The taller and bulkier of the two stepped in front of Dean and looked down at him. "As you were saying?" he asked as he took a step closer to the younger man.

Dean's stubborn streak reared its ugly head. A wicked smile crossed his face as he closed the distance between them by half. "You and what army?" he hissed, his hand was reaching into the back of his jeans to pull out a kitchen knife he'd pocketed several days before.

"Dean," Rachel said as she stepped up. "It's not worth it." She understood the man's need to go looking for his brother but getting the agents mad at him wasn't going to help.

"Yes, it is," Dean shot back. He struggled briefly as the woman caught hold of him and pulled him back. Finally he admitted defeat, mostly because he didn't want to hurt her, and allowed her to pull him toward the back of the room.

"Wise choice, Dean," Booth said as the refugees resumed their seats. Grissom and Nick glanced at each other. They were worried about all four men but especially Dr. Reid. The man was exceedingly intelligent but not as well adjusted as he could be. Grissom wasn't sure if the young man would survive well on his own or in a dangerous situation.

"Wait," Rachel muttered to Dean as she sat down beside him in the chairs along the wall. "We aren't giving up but now is not the time to push things."

From over by the doorway, she noticed Mack hanging just outside. Clearly he'd heard everything. She could see that from his face. Mack took in the situation in a glance and headed back into the bunk house where Bob was.

"It's Sammy," Dean stated. He'd barely spoken to the large woman during their time here but he didn't think she understood how very upsetting it was for him to not know where his brother was or who had him.

"I know," Rachel replied. One look at the man's face and she could see the anguish in his blue eyes. She understood his desperate need to run out the front door and go looking but that wouldn't be particularly helpful at the moment. While she was worried about Sam and Reid, she was particularly upset by the disappearance of Mike and Roy. The two firemen were from the here and now. If the person or people who took Reid and Sam were looking for displaced people the firemen were in danger.

"No, you don't know," Dean spat. It took every ounce of self restraint he had to keep from jumping to his feet and running out the door. "I'm supposed to take care of him. I can't do that if I don't know where he is."

Further conversation was pre-empted by the return of the engine. Captain Stanley had been forced to commandeer an engineer from one of the other stations to drive Big Red home. He knew how but only an engineer was authorized and theirs was missing. The squad backed into its usual spot but Johnny was alone in the vehicle.

The exhausted firemen shuffled into the locker room so they could get cleaned up. Looking at Johnny's face as he climbed out of the squad, Rachel felt the need to hold him but instead just stood and watched as he too headed for the shower.

"If you allow us on the scene, Nick and I may be able to help your investigation," Grissom suggested. He knew the chances were slim that the federal agents would let them anywhere near the scene but he had to offer. The firemen and Sam and Nick needed every advantage they could get if they really had been kidnapped.

"Sorry, Doc," Booth replied. He'd all ready considered the possibility but he'd lost two men, he wasn't taking the chance of losing any more. "No one's going anywhere for a while. The entire station's been taken off the rotation."

Apparently defeated, Grissom moved back over to Nick. He looked at the younger man for a second before turning his attention back to the current situation.

Not knowing what else to do, Rachel stood up and headed for the bunk house. She wanted to find out what Mack's evaluation of the situation was. Walking into the room, she made her way down to where Bob was sprawled on his bed. As she rounded the corner, she found Mack crouched beside him.

"So, what are your suggestions?" she asked.

"Suggestions?" Mack mimicked. There was a painfully innocent look on his face as the military man looked up at her. Somehow it seemed out of place.

"Don't play dumb with me. What would you suggest?" Rachel growled. Despite her best efforts, a smile crept across her face.

"If I were in charge none of them would have vanished to begin with," Mack stated.

"You're a lot of help," Rachel said as she turned to leave. Evidently the man wasn't planning on being helpful. She might as well go back and see what Grissom had to say. In the short time she'd known the man she knew he wasn't going to let this pass without trying something.

"Wait," Mack called out quietly. A motion beside him turned his attention to Bob who was looking up at him. "We'll come up with something."


	20. Chapter 20

_Happy New Year everyone! I know this is short but I hope to have another chapter up before the end of the weekend. Thank you to everyone who is still reading this story. I'm not sure where it's going but I'm having fun getting there!_

_Susanne_

The first thing Roy became aware of as he regained consciousness was the intense pain in his head and the nausea that was burning through his stomach. Swallowing in rapid succession, Roy tried to force his eyes open but all he found was darkness. Wherever he was the temperature was low. As he lay on his back, the senior paramedic could feel chills racking his body. The sudden, spontaneous movements made his head and the nausea feel worse.

Somewhere off to his left, Roy heard movement. In the darkness he couldn't see anything but he could feel fabric by his left hand. It was the canvas of a turnout coat. Confusion rode him as he tried to remember what had happened, how he'd come to be here. Roy was also having trouble figuring out what another fireman was doing here. Desperately he hoped it wasn't Johnny. He was depending on his partner to figure out where he was and come get him.

"Are you okay?" Mike Stoker's voice floated toward Roy in the dark.

"Mike?" Roy replied, even more confused. What was the engineer doing here? Where the hell was here? Too many questions was making his head hurt even more. "What's going on?"

"Someone kidnapped Mr. Reid and Mr. Winchester. We just happened to get in the way," Mike replied. He had basic first aid, all firemen did, and so he reached over and gently felt the paramedic's head. Roy had been unconscious for too long. Mike was worried about a head injury.

At first Roy pulled away, Mike should have warned him what he was doing, but then he relaxed a bit and let the other man examine him as best he could in the dark.

"Are they here?" Roy asked. He had the sense that the room they were in wasn't very big. If the two young men were here he should be able to hear them at least.

"No. The men that grabbed them kept them separate from us as soon as we got out of the van. I had a hood on my head so I'm not sure where we are. I just know it's somewhere in the hills," Mike explained. The gash on Roy's head was still bleeding, all head wounds bled freely. Reaching under his turnout coat, Mike pulled up his blue uniform shirt and pulled a strip off of the t-shirt he wore underneath. Carefully he pressed the piece of cloth against Roy's head.

"Did anyone see them take us?" Roy asked. He hated to have anyone else tend his wounds but he didn't quite feel up to moving any more than absolutely necessary. His stomach was still threatening to empty itself with each breath. The compress on his head did little to ease the pain but he knew it was necessary. Why didn't someone turn on a light? It would be a whole lot easier to deal with things if they could see. But then, maybe that was the point.

"I saw them hit you. They threatened to shoot you if I didn't go with them. But I don't think anyone else saw anything. Cap and Johnny would notice that we were missing before too long though," Mike replied, trying to make the paramedic feel a bit better.

"Yeah, I was going to get supplies to work on a patient. When I came around the end of the squad I saw Sam lying on the ground and Reid being forced out of the cab," Roy said. The memories were coming back to him. He was desperately trying to distract himself from his stomach. "Then it all goes black."

"Why do you think someone wanted to take Reid and Sam?" Mike asked. The cloth was stuck to Roy's head with the blood that had seeped into it. He let go long enough to pull a longer, thinner strip off his undershirt. Then Mike tired the cloth in place. It was the best he could do in the dark.

"I don't know," Roy replied. His thoughts kept turning to the doctors that had spent so much time with the refugees. The doctor in charge had wanted to go farther than Booth was willing to let them go. Maybe the man decided to find a way to perform the tests without Booth's permission. But then, maybe there were other people interested in the refugees.

"What do you suppose they're doing to them?" Mike wondered. The cement cell they were in was sound proof. Mike had the feeling that they were in a basement somewhere in the middle of a structure. The fact that there were no windows indicated the interior part of a building but not many places in Los Angeles had basements. A chill passed through his body. The cement absorbed every ounce of heat he had. If he was cold, Roy must be frozen.

"We're going to have to huddle together to maintain our body temperatures," Roy said from the ground. His shivers had gotten worse for a few moments but now they had practically subsided to be replaced with a bone chilling cold deep inside his body. He knew that meant that his body temperature was dropping below his ability to maintain it. He was in danger of suffering the effects of hypothermia in a matter of minutes. The thought of moving, however, wasn't a particularly pleasant one. His stomach was still protesting loudly.

"Here," Mike said. He carefully pulled Roy into a half sitting position and pulled him across the room to the corner furthest from the door. He paused long enough to strip his jacket off and lay it in the corner. Then he gently pulled Roy's jacket off of him. They were going to have to share what body heat they still possessed.

"Thanks," Roy said as he wedged himself into the corner, on top of the jacket. The movement renewed the throbbing of his head but his stomach felt a little better for being upright. He felt Mike settle down beside him. The engineer wrapped his right arm behind Roy's back and then pulled the other jacket around them. Under the canvas, Mike wrapped himself around Roy as best he could. He knew enough about hypothermia to know that the fact that Roy had stopped shivering was a bad thing.

"Try to get some sleep," Mike said. "I have a feeling we're going to need it before this is all over."

"You know, it's a bad idea to let someone suffering the effects of hypothermia sleep," Roy muttered. Now that he was feeling a little warmer, he was finding it very hard to stay awake. That scared him as much as the head wound.

"I know," Mike admitted. "It just seemed like the appropriate thing to say."

Despite himself, Roy chuckled. He felt Mike shift a little around him, trying to get a little more comfortable. It was going to be a long day.


	21. Chapter 21

"Sam, wake up," Reid's voice drifted in the darkness surrounding the youngest Winchester. Sam wasn't sure he wanted to leave the dark. By long experience of being knocked in the head, he knew the pain and nausea that were awaiting him. If the blow had been hard enough, Sam knew that even worse could be waiting. But the voice sounded so young and scared.

"What?" Sam mumbled. He blinked his aching eyes and gradually saw the young doctor's lean face hovering over his own. The boy's brown eyes were dark with fear and something else Sam couldn't quite place. Beyond Reid's head, Sam noticed that the walls were white and industrial looking.

"Are you all right?" Reid asked. He wasn't a medical doctor but he knew the signs of a concussion. Sam was still blinking against the light hanging above them. His left pupil was slightly sluggish.

"Yeah, what happened?" Sam asked as he forced his body up into a sitting position, despite the wave of nausea that assailed him.

"We were kidnapped," Reid stated simply. It wasn't the first time for Reid. He just hoped that this time turned out a little differently. He really didn't want to become addicted to heroin again. It had nearly taken control of his entire life the last time. "Roy DeSoto and Mike Stoker were also taken but they're not here."

"Who were they?" Sam asked. His memories of the last few seconds before he lost consciousness were a little hazy. Too many concussions he supposed. Absently he swallowed in rapid succession while taking deep breaths. It would help with the nausea.

"I don't know," Reid admitted. The lanky young man had moved away from the bed Sam had been lying on. Full of nervous energy, Spencer began to pace the small room. "They pulled a hood over my head after they got us into the van. I tried to keep a timeline of how long we travelled but I have to admit that I became disorientated.

"I've studied the map of Los Angeles County at the station but we soon left its borders behind. I had no frame of reference," Reid said. Sam could see how much this was bothering the slim man.

Blinking, to clear his eyes and his mind, Sam took a quick look around. They were in some kind of a clinical cell. He assumed the doctor had all ready tried the barred door along the far wall. Of course it would be locked. The people who'd grabbed them wouldn't have gone to all the trouble to just let them go.

"That's okay," Sam said to the younger man. Well, in actuality Reid was about the same age as Sam but the hardened hunter felt the need to protect him. Sam knew from listening to Reid the few times he'd talked that the slim man was an FBI agent. That meant he was used to dealing with dangerous situations and people and that he was probably used to carrying a gun. Still, Sam reflected as he forced his protesting body off the cot he was laying on, he would do what he must to keep the man safe. Maybe this was kind of how Dean felt. Dean must be freaking by now.

Squashing that thought and the emotions that brought up, Sam quietly paced around the room. The door was barred and locked. There were no other features to the room but the two cots and the toilet in the corner. Sam glanced up and noticed a camera in the one corner of the room. The red light on the side of it flashed back at him silently. They were being watched.

"If you're going after them, I'm going with you," Johnny said. He'd located Bob, Mack, Dean and Rachel in the bunk house. The four had been huddled together speaking quietly to each other. Upon hearing the paramedic's voice, they all turned to face them. Only Rachel looked vaguely guilty. The woman couldn't lie convincingly if her life depended on it.

"You're still on shift," Rachel stated. She was the first one to speak. The three men were silent, looking at the paramedic with appraising eyes.

"Station 51 has been taken off shift. They couldn't find anyone to replace Roy or Mike. Battalion has decided to bring in all of C shift early to replace us," Johnny stated. If he had to sit here and wait he felt like he was going to explode. It was all he could do to keep from running out to his car and starting a search himself. He knew the other members of his shift felt the same way but too many people could create a scene.

"We could use someone who knows Los Angeles better than we do," Rachel suggested. She knew the three men were used to doing things themselves. They didn't like to have to look to another source for information. It didn't take a genius to figure that out just from the stubborn looks that were flashed across their faces.

Rachel didn't want to push too hard. It was still beyond her why the three men had even decided to include her in their discussions. She wasn't willing to take the chance that they would change their minds.

The door to the bunk house opened and Nick slipped inside. He glanced back into the garage on his way in, making sure no one was watching. He knew that the FBI agents were getting antsy and didn't want to wait any longer than absolutely necessary. The head agents hadn't shown up yet, once they did the station would be wrapped up tighter than Fort Knox.

"I'm going with you," Nick said as he joined the group. It didn't take a genius to figure out that they were going to go searching for the missing men. "I'm a crime scene analyst. If anyone can figure out what happened, it'll be me."

"How much time do we have?" Mack asked. He didn't want to take Bob. The younger Unit member was just recovering his strength. The alternative, leaving him behind, didn't appeal to him either though. The senior Unit member didn't want to take any of the other civilians. Under normal circumstances they'd be a liability. But these were not normal circumstances.

"Last report was that the senior agents were fifteen minutes out. If we're going to move, we have to do it before that," Nick informed them. He had a metal case clutched in one hand. Grissom had helped him create an impromptu kit to examine the crime scene before sending him into the room. The senior CSI had wanted to go too but had also come to the conclusion that too many people would be counterproductive. Nick was younger and in better shape, he was the logical choice.

"Do you have a vehicle big enough for all of us?" Mack asked, turning his attention to Johnny.

"Yeah, I have a Range Rover parked out back," Johnny replied.

"How are we all going to get out back without drawing attention to ourselves?" Rachel asked. She was a bit of a control freak. She liked to know what was going on and how things were going to happen. Given her present situation, she'd have thought she'd learned to loosen up a bit. Apparently not.

"The guys will help with that," Johnny volunteered. A slow smile was creasing his worried face. This just might work.

"What are we waiting for?" Nick asked.


	22. Chapter 22

The darkness continued. Roy was having trouble figuring out if his eyes were open or not. Apart from Mike's breathing and occasional movements, there were no sounds in the room, no indication of the passing of time. The senior paramedic was finding it very hard to keep track of time. There seemed to be large periods where he was unconscious but he couldn't be sure.

"Are you awake?" Mike asked. He too was losing track of time. The engineer could tell that Roy was drifting in and out of unconsciousness but there wasn't really anything he could do about it. He discovered he really hated feeling helpless. Roy had started shivering again within half an hour of them getting in the corner. Now the blond paramedic was doing little more than a tremble, the full blown shivers were gone. Mike found that huddled under the coat with Roy, he too was feeling warmer.

"Yeah, for now," Roy replied. His head felt like it was two sizes too big but a small portion of the pain was gone. The only good thing was that the nausea had mostly passed. The pain was at a manageable level, so much so that he could feel the kink in his back. "I need to get up."

"Here, let me help you," Mike said as he quickly gained his own feet. He was careful to leave the turnout coat over Roy, no need for a relapse. Once he was situated properly, Mike bent down and caught hold of Roy's nearest arm. He'd thought to keep one of his feet resting against Roy's leg so he knew where he was. The engineer had spent a fair amount of time making his way around this dark cell. He'd picked up a few tricks when he wasn't keeping Roy warm.

"Thanks," Roy said as he felt Mike heave on his arm. The pain in his head got worse but the one in his back disappeared so it all evened out. The nausea threatened for the first few seconds but it quickly abated as well. All in all the paramedic felt better all ready. "Have you had time to figure out where we are?"

"No, no new information anyway," Mike admitted. He hovered near Roy in case he should suffer any vertigo or dizziness. Those were symptoms of a head wound, he knew that much.

Carefully, Roy stepped over to the nearest wall. Running his right hand along the cement, he made a quick tour of the room. Not much to feel, just cement and more cement. The only difference was where the door frame broke up the surface. All in all, it didn't tell him much. "How long have we been here?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.

"I'm not sure but I think it's been nearly 6 hours." Mike felt Roy brush past him as he made another circuit of the room. The paramedic was trembling harder, whether from cold or fatigue he wasn't sure. "We'd better go and rest in the corner again. I think we'll need the energy later on."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," Roy admitted, defeat in his voice. He hated feeling this weak but all ready his body was protesting the small amount of movement he'd managed. In the darkness though, he'd momentarily lost his bearings. "Ah, where are the coats?"

"This might hurt a little," the technician said behind Spencer's back. The degree of concern was negated by the evident pleasure in the man's voice. Shuddering, Reid tried to break free from the restraints holding him down. They'd swarmed the two refugees. Six men had burst into their room and forced each of the men onto their respective beds. Reid had been stripped down to his boxers before he even had a chance to process what was going on. Similarly, Sam was wearing only his underwear as he was strapped firmly onto his cot.

During his struggles, Reid felt the technician wipe his back with a cold cloth. "What are you doing?" he asked, not really sure he wanted to know the answer. Across from him, he could see Sam struggling as well while two technicians pushed long needles into various parts of his anatomy, taking samples of everything imaginable. Fleetingly, Reid was envious of the man's ability to keep from crying out. He wasn't sure he was going to be able to do that himself.

The technician had forced Reid up onto his right side and made him curl up as much as he could. Reid was having a little trouble breathing in the cramped position but that didn't matter for a few moments as pain flashed through his spine. Reid's breath caught in his throat as flashes of red played through his vision. The pain expanded from a pin prick to down into his stomach as his muscles cramped. Small moans escaped and were replaced by a whimper as the technician continued to probe.

"What are you doing?" Reid managed. He was trying to distract himself from the pain radiating from his spine all the way around to his belly button. He wasn't sure he wanted to know but it was better than sounding like a scared child.

"Just a spinal tap," the technician replied. The man grunted as he forced the needle further through Reid's body.

Unable to stop the scream, Reid felt his mouth contort as the sound was ripped from him. Since when was his spine in the middle of his abdomen? He didn't had the breath to ask as the man finally removed the needle.

Gasping as the pain abated, Reid struggled against his bonds again. This wasn't right, he needed to get away from these people and take Sam with him.

A quick glance at the taller man, Reid saw the sweat beading on his face and stomach as the technicians continued their tests. Done with his chest, they were moving to the organs further down his abdomen. As Reid watched, the nearest technician inserted an evil looking needle into his right side. Satisfied with the placement, the technician pulled back on the plunger on the syringe attached to the needle and extracted fluid. Sam grunted and kept his eyes closed. It was easier to handle the pain when he couldn't see what they were doing.

Another swab and then a second needle was forced into Reid's body. The pain was worse than before. He couldn't draw breath as his chest muscles contracted in response to the placement of the needle. Desperately, Reid pulled against the straps as his world gradually turned red and then black at the lack of oxygen. Then it didn't matter as unconsciousness covered him like a thick blanket.

On the other cot, Sam had opened his eyes just in time to see Reid pass out. He was grateful to see that the lanky chest began to draw breath as soon as the pain wasn't a consideration any longer. Sam almost wished that he too could pass out but that would leave them completely under these sadists' control. There was no doubt in his mind that the men were sadistic because of the procedures they'd performed so far. There were more humane ways of getting the same samples but they preferred to use brute force and long needles.

For the first time in his life, Sam wished he had better control of his powers. He knew his brother wasn't comfortable when he used his visions or telekinetic abilities so he just didn't use them if he could get away with it. Looking across his right shoulder down to his right wrist, Sam concentrated as hard as he could. At first all he managed to do was give himself a worse headache. The needles kept being plunged into his flesh and removed as the technicians took their samples, oblivious to what he was trying to do.

Sam's head felt like it was going to explode and he felt blood trickling out of his nose. He was just considering giving up when he felt the strap move. Relief spread through his aching body was the strap slowly undid itself.

The technicians were all too busy to notice. Sam turned his attention to the strap on his left wrist. If his head got any worse he wasn't sure he'd be able to get that one loose but he was going to have to try. The men had moved down to his lower abdomen, pushing needles into his kidneys and lymph nodes. Sam tried to not think about how far they were going to go. With any luck, he'd be free before they got that far.

The strap on his left wrist was just starting to undo as the first tech pulled at the waistband of his underwear, trying to pull them lower.

"Get your hands off of me!" Sam grated. Partly out of fear and partly as a way to distract them from what he was trying to do. He didn't want them to notice that his right hand was all ready free.

"Got to get our samples, man," the tech responded as he continued to pull them down.

Suddenly desperate, Sam punched the nearest tech with his right hand and then pushed the other away before he could react. In the momentary lull, Sam pawed at the strap holding his left wrist. He got it undone just as the first tech recovered. "Hold him down," he barked as all of the techs in the room converged on the still bound man. He hadn't gotten his ankles loose but with his hands he was able to beat the men back for a few moments.

"Hold still," the second tech growled as he tried to pin the man's hands. The third tech took the time to draw a syringe of fluid before advancing on the struggling man.

"Go to hell," Sam growled as he continued to fight. He felt the needle break the skin and he knew his cause was probably lost. Ignoring the lethargy that was starting to take over, Sam concentrated on the nearest man, trying to send him flying into the wall. His head exploded just as the drug took hold and he fell into oblivion.

"Well, that was interesting," the first technician said as they sorted themselves out and continued their work


	23. Chapter 23

_Thank you to everyone who's taken the time to review this story. I sometimes wonder if it has any merit at all except to bring really diverse characters together. Thank you also to everyone who is still reading this story. Thank you for taking the time._

_Susanne_

The members of A shift had done their job. Chet and Marco had started a 'fight' over the Barbie twins in the dayroom. They were loud and at several points devolved to shoving each other around. Their performance riveted everyone in the room, especially the FBI agents who were unsure of whether they were supposed to break it up or not.

As silently and stealthily as they could manager, the group of runaways made their way through the garage toward the back of the station. Johnny led the way, his keys in his right hand. Behind him he could feel the others as much as he could hear their gentle footsteps.

Luckily, it was dark so once they were out the garage door there was no way for them to be seen unless someone turned the light on over the door. The runaways had no intention of doing that as they quickly made their way toward the whitish Land Rover parked in the furthest space.

Just as Johnny rounded the driver's side a blinding light flashed in his eyes. "Going somewhere?" Agent Booth asked as he shone a flash light into the fireman's face.

Mack and Bob ducked behind the vehicle, trying to keep their presence from being known. Their military instincts were kicking in. The others stood stock still, unsure of whether they should hide or try to jump the man.

"I'm not leaving Roy or the others out there," Johnny stated simply as he made to open the driver's door of his vehicle.

"That's not what I'm suggesting," Booth said. He panned the flashlight around so he could see everyone that was in the group. He paused for a moment when the light fell on Rachel but he quickly recovered and moved onto the military men.

"What are you suggesting?" Nick asked. He unconsciously glanced toward the garage door, just in case someone saw them. That was the last thing they needed at this point.

"If you're going to go in search of your friends, you might need someone with authorization," Booth stated as he flashed his badge. "A gun might help too."

Spencer felt like a pin cushion as he slowly came aware of himself again. There wasn't an organ in his body that those sadists hadn't taken a sample of. Along with the gentle waves of pain were pricklings of humiliation. There was nothing they hadn't sampled. Reid tried to move his limbs only to find that they were secured to the table again.

"Sam?" he called out quietly. The young doctor found that his mouth was very dry. The sound he'd made was barely above a whisper but it was all he had in him. The technicians had thoughtfully turned down the lights so that Spencer couldn't really see what was going on around him.

A low moan was his only response. Turning his head in the direction of the sound, Spencer could barely make out Sam's hitched breathing. Apparently the taller man was also feeling the effects of their exams.

Unable to find any way out, Reid had to turn to solving problems in his mind to keep the panic at bay. He was used to being in control of every situation. Even when he was in danger, Spencer knew that he was ultimately in control. Not here. And he didn't like it.

"S- spencer?" a quiet voice called from Sam's direction. Evidently the other man was suffering from dehydration as well.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asked the darkness. For whatever reason the taller man appeared to be in worse condition, Reid wasn't sure why that would be. They had all the same organs after all.

"Not really," Sam admitted. He felt like his head was going to fall off. The visions had always caused him severe migraines but this wasn't a vision. He tried to open his eyes but it didn't make any difference. The technicians weren't sure what he'd done but they wanted to make sure he couldn't see well enough to try it again. How little they knew him.

Ignoring the pain and his head, Sam turned his entire attention to the straps holding his hands. His head exploded as his powers took hold. It was all he could do to remain conscious as the pain ripped through his brain.

Sam's world narrowed to the two strips of nylon holding his hands. Distantly he thought he could hear Reid asking him questions but he put that out of his mind. All that mattered was the straps. In the darkness he could feel the material on his right wrist begin to move.

"Are you okay?" Mike asked the darkness. He and Roy were wrapped up in the turnout coats. The engineer knew that the paramedic was sleeping fitfully against his shoulder. The room hadn't warmed up any. He wasn't sure if that was intentional or not.

In the time they'd been held captive in the room no one had come in to see if they were all right or if they needed anything. Above all other concerns, Mike really wanted to get hold of some water for himself and Roy. Between fighting the fire and then being kidnapped, they were both very dehydrated.

"Yeah, my head's not hurting as much anymore," came Roy's quiet reply. All he really wanted to do was sleep. He wasn't sure if it was the result of the head injury, the cold or dehydration. Ultimately, he wasn't sure he really cared all the much, one way or the other. Roy just wanted to get the hell out of here.

"I'm going to see if I can get anyone's attention. At the very least we need some water," Mike said. He felt the need to take action, any action, even if it meant pounding at the door and screaming at the top of his lungs.

Carefully Mike extracted himself from his fellow firefighter. Moving over to the door, he began pounding on it. "Hey! Hey! We need some help in here!" it was a stupid thing to say but it was the only thing that came to mind.

The first spot they stopped at was the initial crime scene. Nick was entirely in his element as he examined the evidence. Battalion hadn't had the squad moved yet so he was able to do a thorough evaluation of the scene. For their part, Bob and Mack wandered around, looking for their own clues.

Unsure of what to do, Rachel stayed with the Land Rover and watched the others anxiously through the windshield. Booth and Johnny were talking to the official investigators. She wasn't sure if it was to get their version of what happened or to distract them so they didn't wonder what Nick and the others were doing. Personally, she thought the answer lay somewhere in between.

After what felt like an eternity, the others began piling back into the truck. Nick and Booth were in deep discussion about what the investigators had found. For her part, Rachel felt like she could have been invisible. Not a very positive feeling. Why had she bothered to come along? She wasn't sure.

"We were talking to some of the store owners around the corner from the squad," Bob said. He was tired but at least he didn't feel quite so useless anymore. "One of them remembers seeing a van pull up and then speed away a few minutes later. He said they headed east."

"Well, that's more than we got," Booth said. He'd automatically gotten into the driver's seat. It would look less suspicious. Johnny wasn't happy but if it got them closer to Roy he'd live with it.

"Where do we go from here?" Rachel asked.

"That way," Mack replied. It was better than sitting still.

Finally. The first strap was undone. Since there was no one around to see him, Sam reached across to his left hand and fumbled with that strap as well. His head felt like it was ready to fall off his shoulders and the nausea was back with a vengeance. He was good at compartmentalizing. This ability was one he used to keep from letting his physical discomfort overwhelm him.

"Spencer?" he asked. Sam needed to make sure the other man was awake. Once he got these things undone they were going to make a break for it. His left hand released, Sam carefully sat up and began to work on his ankles.

"I'm here," Reid replied. He could hear Sam doing something but he didn't want to call attention to it in case their captors were monitoring them. Distantly he hoped it meant they were getting out of here because he'd all ready run out of options five hours ago.

The final straps holding Sam to his bed came loose. Deliberately he forced his protesting body up off the mattress and onto his feet. Even in the dark he knew where the other man was. Brushing against Reid's bed, Sam reached out and found his nearest appendage. The thin man started at the contact but to his credit, he didn't make a sound and quickly relaxed.

"Come on," Sam said once he got the last strap undone. He wasn't sure where they were going to go. Where wasn't as important as finding the firemen and getting the hell out of Dodge. Roy and Mike had a good knowledge of the city, they'd help them beg orientated as soon as they could find some road signs.

Sam was momentarily stunned by how thin Reid's arms really were. He knew that every person was different based on their genetics and ancestry but still. How did the man manage to hold up a gun without falling over? Pushing the thought away, Sam and Reid quickly made their way to the door. It was locked. Damn.


	24. Chapter 24

"Do you know how to pick a lock?" Reid asked. He'd started to shiver. The room wasn't especially cold but the two of them were only dressed in their underwear. The technicians had removed all the rest of their clothing from the room. Reid was glad that it was dark. It helped to hide the differences in their bodies. Sam was tall and muscular. Standing beside him, Reid was a good four inches shorter and probably nearly sixty pounds lighter. Usually in his line of work, the size of his muscles wasn't a consideration.

"Of course, don't you?" Sam responded. His head was still pounding and the biopsy marks were hurting but he pushed it to the back of his mind. Even in the dark he could tell that Spencer was suffering and having trouble staying upright. Absently, he wiped the blood from his nose and concentrated on the lock. If he could undo straps, maybe he could unlock doors too. Now was as good a time as any to find out.

"Why would I need to know that?" Spencer asked.

"I don't suppose the witness that saw the van happened to see the license plate, did they?" Nick asked. He was crammed into the back seat. Where they were supposed to put the four men once they found him was a mystery he wasn't willing to consider at the moment.

"I got a partial," Bob said from the back as well. Fishing in his back pocket he came up with a piece of paper and handed it over. In his exhaustion the clue had completely slipped his mind.

"Great, I'll call it in," Booth said as he pulled up beside a phone booth. Putting the Land Rover into park, he jumped out and ran to the phone. He may be AWOL but he still had people who would be willing to help him.

"Why doesn't he just use a cell?" Nick muttered before he thought about it. Chagrined, he glanced at Rachel who was sitting quietly beside him. She gave him a small smile and shrugged her shoulders.

"That was my first thought too," she quietly admitted. She'd managed to keep from being put in the middle when everyone loaded back up into the vehicle. She was able to keep her cool by being by the window. Otherwise she would start to feel a little too claustrophobic.

"What's a cell?" Johnny asked from the front seat. The interior of the car was too quiet, he'd heard what the two had said and didn't quite understand it.

"Ahh," Nick hedged as he glanced at the other refugees in the vehicle. They'd tried very hard to keep most things to themselves. The government agents had found their cell phones, confiscated them and spent hours examining them but had still come back to them to find out what they were. None of them had told them. Too Star Trek or not, it wasn't worth the risk.

Nick was spared trying to figure out an answer by Booth climbing back into the car. He didn't look especially happy but then, he rarely did.

"There's a few thousand vehicles in California with that partial. Only twenty of them are vans and in the Los Angeles area. I got some of the addresses. I'll have to phone later to get the rest. It's a place to start," he said as he turned the Land Rover over, put it in gear and headed out.

"There's someone coming," Mike breathed. Roy was sleeping fitfully in the turnout jackets on the floor. Mike was roaming restlessly around the room, careful to not step on his friend. He'd just happened to be by the door when he heard someone outside.

"Hmmm?" Roy responded, not quite awake. The concussion was keeping him drowsy and nauseated. The cold certainly wasn't helping either.

Mike didn't have the chance to react as the door swung in toward him and Sam stumbled inside, closely followed by Spencer. Both boys were nearly naked, he could see that even in the dim light from the hallway. Mike got the feeling he really didn't want to find out what had been done to them.

"Sam," Spencer breathed as he helped the taller man remain on his feet. Whatever Sam was doing was making him even weaker and causing headaches and nose bleeds. The whole process was making Spencer's all ready cold skin, crawl.

"How are you?" Sam asked in a quiet voice as he leaned heavily on the slight frame of the FBI Special Agent. "Can you both walk?"

Sam wasn't questioning how he found the two men. He just wanted to get out before his head completely turned to pulp. Opening the doors and finding the firemen had taken more out of him than he was willing to admit, to anybody.

"Yeah, I think so," Mike said as he pulled a still slightly fuzzy Roy to his feet. Picking up the turnout coats, he gave one to each of the shivering boys. They needed them worse than they did at the moment. "How did you get lose?"

"Never mind," Sam said as he led the way out of the room. He wasn't seeing so well but he still instinctively knew where to go. If he could do all of this without practice, what could he do if he bothered to take the time to hone them? How much of a freak would Dean think he was?

As quietly as they could, the four men slipped down the hallway. Sam kept the lead as they padded through the industrial building. Spencer was right behind him, trying to make sure he didn't collapse entirely. Sam felt the same way about him. At least now they had something to wear and he felt marginally better all ready.

Behind them, Mike struggled to keep Roy going. Now that they were moving they were both warmer but Roy seemed to be having trouble putting one foot in front of the other. In the dim lights of the hallway, Mike could see that the two boys were in bad shape. He didn't want to add to their worries by pointing out the troubles Roy was having. Instead, he pulled his friend against his side and pretty much carried the man down the hall.

So far they hadn't run into anyone, hopefully their luck would continue to hold. At least Sam hoped so as they stepped out into a huge room full of noisy, dirty equipment that seemed to run without human supervision. The cuts from the biopsies stung in the contaminated air. Wherever there was, there was salt in the air.

Ignoring it, they continued on.

After spending a couple of hours driving through the streets of Los Angeles County, Booth pulled over to another phone booth to get the rest of the addresses. They'd managed to eliminate several of the first addresses simply because they were residential houses. If the four men were being held somewhere, a house wouldn't be their first choice.

Just in case, Booth did send uniforms over to the houses they didn't bother to check. He made up some story that seemed to satisfy them. He wasn't willing to take any chances.

"Okay," Booth said as he climbed back into the Land Rover. He had the addresses clutched in his hand until he pulled the door shut and took a closer look at them. "There's some more for the uniforms."

The others in the vehicle were virtually holding their breath, waiting for the agent to cry 'Eureka' and head off in the right direction. No such exclamation was forthcoming.

"Well?" Johnny finally had to demand as the man scanned the list. He was being too quiet. It was driving the paramedic crazy.

"There're four that might be worthwhile. Hold on," Booth instructed them as he pulled a quick u-turn in the middle of the street.


	25. Chapter 25

_I'm sorry this is short. I figure it's better to update with something than wait until I have more. At this rate that could take a while. I hope you enjoy it!_

_Susanne_

"Do you know where we're going?" Reid asked. They seemed to have been moving for a very long time. Rationally he knew that wasn't really the case but it sure felt that way. Every muscle he had was aching with the exercise. He couldn't imagine that Sam was feeling any better but the taller man wasn't slowing down. He was like a man possessed.

"No," Sam admitted. He too was feeling the effects of the sampling as well as the concussion and nausea from being struck. He very carefully pushed the sensations to the back of his mind and kept going. By now Dean would be frantic with worry, whether he was willing to show it or not. Distantly, Sam pitied the other displaced people that would have to deal with the elder Winchester. Dean would be in quite the mood.

"Stop," Mike gasped. Roy wasn't moving very well but that wasn't the reason for calling a stop. They were passing a window on the upper floor of the factory. The engineer wanted to see if he could figure out where they were by looking outside.

Breathing heavily, Roy basically collapsed against the wall beside the window and tried to recover. He really hated feeling this weak and useless. It wasn't something he was used to and didn't want to start now. The nausea was getting better but he was having trouble tracking thoughts. Not a good sign.

"Well?" Sam demanded. He knew he sounded angry but he hadn't meant to. The trek so far was taking more of his strength than he would have liked. The youngest Winchester wasn't entirely sure how much farther he was going to be able to go before he collapsed completely. From the pallor of Spencer's skin, the lanky doctor was feeling about the same. Damn, they'd better find help soon.

"Well," Mike hedged. He knew Los Angeles pretty good. He had to to drive Big Red. Looking out the window though, didn't show him anything that was even vaguely familiar. He couldn't even see the ocean from here. The thick layer of smog hanging in the air didn't help matters.

"You don't know where we are," Reid concluded as he too leaned against the wall. Things were looking better and better. Where were Hotch and Morgan when he really needed them? Quickly he turned his attention back to the present situation.

"Um, no. Maybe if I could see out the other side," Mike suggested. He didn't like feeling useless either. Carefully he helped his friend to his feet as Sam set off again in the direction they'd been headed in.

"You said four of them looked good?" Rachel asked from the back seat. They were on the way to the fourth address without any luck. Things were starting to look a little hopeless at the moment. Quickly she glanced at the men she was sharing the vehicle with. None of them looked too happy either.

"Yeah," Booth said. His entire attention was directed at his driving. It was getting late, rush hour was starting. With practiced ease he wove his way among the other cars and trucks but the other driving weren't always that cooperative.

"Oh," Rachel said. There was nothing else to say. In the front seat she could feel the frustration radiating off Dean in waves. Between him and Booth, Bob was trying to stay awake. Despite feeling better, he was finding the day wearing. She didn't blame him. Other than driving around they really hadn't done much else.

Beside her, Mack shifted restlessly. He was used to being in charge. He was just enough of a control freak that he hated to let other people drive. It was one way he had to feel like he was doing something. Beyond him, Nick was staring out the window. She wasn't sure how much of the landscape he was seeing but at least he was quiet.

"How much farther is it?" Dean asked. He too was staring out the window. There didn't seem to be anything else he could do at the moment. Unconsciously, he chewed on his bottom lip.

"About twenty minutes," Booth estimated.

"Humph," was the only response. Dean knew the agent was doing his best but so far it hadn't yielded any results. Who'd kidnapped his brother and what were they doing to him? The thoughts kept running in circles through his mind.

The rest of the trip was made in silence.

Huge machines thumped and pulsed around them making communication impossible. Sam didn't know where he was going. It didn't really matter that much at the moment. They just needed to get away from here. The noise and the vibrations running through the air made his head hurt that much more. Roy was experiencing similar difficulties. He could see it on the older man's face.

Just as he was about to give in to despair, Sam felt like an invisible hand grabbed hold of him and directed him toward the far corner of the room. Behind him he could feel the others struggling, even Mike. The engineer was wearing out from basically carrying his friend. They had to get out of here now, before the techs realized they were gone.

Slipping around a large vat type structure, Sam saw a door. Thank God! He wanted to just push it open and stumble out into the fresh air but caution took hold. He waited to make sure the other three were with him before he carefully pushed on the bar to force the door open.

Brilliant sunlight dazzled their eyes for a few heart-stopping seconds as they stumbled outside. Reid had had the presence of mind to close his eyes just as Sam opened the door. He recovered quicker than the others. Ignoring his body's protests, he ushered the other three toward a dumpster a few yards outside the door. It was the only cover he could immediately see.

"Get down," Reid whispered to the others as their eyes adjusted. A forklift lumbered by just a few feet away. He didn't think the driver had seen them as they moved further behind the metal box.

"Thanks," Sam breathed as he peered around the corner. They were between two large buildings. Both of them were industrial in nature. Why they were being held here was anyone's guess. As tired as they all were, they couldn't risk staying here. Now able to see, Sam took the lead again and they set off again.


	26. Chapter 26

"Are we there yet?" Dean growled. He was tired of staring out of the window. He didn't like L.A., he never had. Too many people. Too many supernatural occurrences. Why were all the ghosts, demons and other beings drawn to this place? It definitely wasn't the City of Angels in his book.

"You sound like you're seven years old," Booth growled back. He understood the man's frustration. Hell, he'd be ready to rip heads off too if his brother were missing, if he had a brother. But the elder Winchester's attitude wasn't helping things.

"We should be there in four minutes," Mack stated. He'd looked at the map on the wall. In the habit of many missions, he'd put it to memory. He hated dealing with civilians. As casually as he could, he glanced at Bob. A knowing expression flickered across the younger man's face, then he looked back out the window.

"We need to rest," Mike gasped. They'd been travelling for an eternity, or so it felt. Roy was barely conscious. The engineer was carrying most of the other man's weight. The other two didn't appear to be doing much better. They had found a way into the next building, it felt better than running around in the open.

It too was a factory of some kind but it had seen better days. If Mike were here in a professional capacity, he would have to write the owner up on several fire code violations. Like the rickety service elevator they'd climbed into in an effort to get to the lower levels. Sam appeared to be hoping that there would be a large opening into the underground sewer lines.

While Mike wasn't sure, he was willing to follow anywhere that wasn't where they currently were or where they had been. As gently as he could manage, Mike pulled Roy a little further up on his shoulder.

"I know," Sam breathed. He'd really hoped to get into the sewer lines before they took a break. But one look around at the exhausted, drawn faces of his companions and he knew that they weren't going to get that far. Quickly he changed his focus to finding someplace secure for them to rest. By now their captors knew that they'd gotten away. He didn't want to give them a second chance to take samples.

"Okay," the youngest Winchester said. "Let's go in here for a few minutes." Sam indicated a small closet in the back of the floor they were on. There were derelict sewing machines and other abandoned machinery cluttering the floor. It made moving a little harder but they were all short enough that the six foot four inches Sam could easily scan the entire area. If he could, so could someone else.

In moments, the four of them were huddled in the closet, the door barely ajar. Sam felt better having walls around them. They could see anyone coming and not have to worry about their backs. As he settled toward the front of the closet, Sam felt Reid tremble slightly against his side. The doctor had barely said three words since their escape. He seemed to be conserving his energy to just keep moving. Sam couldn't say he blamed the slight man. Reid didn't have much fat on him to rely on in a pinch. Sam didn't either but he certainly had more than the skinny man sitting beside him.

"How's Roy doing?" Sam asked quietly. He kept one eye toward the cracked door to make sure no one was coming.

"I'm okay," Roy replied. His voice was barely above a whisper but Sam could hear the pain the older man was trying to hide. They must have really hit him hard, Sam thought. His head was still ringing slightly but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. Being a fireman, Roy would have a similar level of tolerance for discomfort. For him to be so badly disabled, Sam figured he must have a severe concussion. Not something he wanted to deal with in their present situation.

"That's good," Sam replied vaguely. Hopefully Roy would keep up, if he didn't they'd have to slow down. That was the last thing Sam wanted to do at the moment.

Sam and Reid were still wearing nothing but their underwear and the firemen's turnout coats. If there were sewing machines, maybe there were clothes somewhere around here. It was worth the chance of leaving cover. If Dean caught Sam running around like this he'd never let his little brother live it down.

"I'll be back in a few minutes. Be ready to move when I get here," Sam said. As quickly as he could get his gangly frame out of the confining closet, Sam began to search. Now that he could hear Dean laughing his ass off at finding him wearing a 'skirt', Sam was determined to find something, anything for him and Reid to wear.

"How are we going to search this place without tipping them off?" Dean asked. He hated leaving the planning up to someone else but Booth could have him hauled away in irons if he wasn't careful.

"As carefully and as quickly as possible," Booth hedged. He parked the Land Rover around the corner from the two warehouses. He didn't want to take the chance of them being made. The FBI agent climbed out and waited for the others to join him on the sidewalk. "Okay, there are two warehouses. We're going to split up and search both of them at the same time. I'm going to give Dean a handi talkie so we can keep in touch."

Within minutes they were split into two groups. Rachel, Dean, Bob and Johnny made up the first group while Mack, Nick and Booth made up the other one. Rachel had a sneaky suspicion that Booth deliberately put her and Bob on the same team. Whether it was because he thought they were the weak links or because he wanted her and Johnny to keep an eye on the still ill man, the decision didn't sit well with Mack. One look at the man's eyes and she knew Booth had better watch his back.

"Okay, we have an hour. You start on the closest warehouse and we'll do the other one. Call me if you need anything at all. Make sure you remember where you are and how the hell to get out," Booth instructed as he handed over the radio and a gun. He wasn't sending them in unarmed.

"Let's get going," Dean said as he quickly tucked the gun into the back of his jeans and the radio into his jacket pocket. "We're wasting time."


	27. Chapter 27

The first thing Johnny noticed was that the factory appeared to be abandoned. That wasn't necessarily a surprise. There were a number of these derelict buildings in the city. He knew from the outside that there were two upper floors and possibly a basement. The most likely place to start was the main floor. If they had to they'd split up and search the others afterward.

"Bob and I will go in this direction, the rest of you go in that one. With any luck we'll meet up on the other side where the staircase is," Johnny instructed. There was a long hallway that ran the outer edge with offices and larger rooms in the centre. If they stuck together it would take much longer than Johnny was willing to spend.

"Okay, whatever you say, Hoss. Let's just get this done," Dean growled as he set out. If Rachel followed that would be fine, if she didn't that would be fine too. It didn't really matter much to him one way or the other. Sam was his one and only priority.

Rachel tossed the two men a look before following the eldest Winchester. The man was intense and scared her a little. She'd spent most of her time with Johnny, Roy and Bob. The others were still a bit of a mystery. She had to practically run to keep up with the taller man's long strides. This was going to be a longer day than she'd anticipated.

Most of the rooms they searched were old offices. They were primarily empty except for the occasional broken piece of furniture. The search went very quickly as the doors were open. No need for Dean to take the time to pick the locks or break the doors open.

Within twenty minutes the two of them had covered their area and were standing at the stairs, waiting for the others. Rachel hadn't said a single word. She knew what the younger man thought of her and didn't want to cause any problems. She sifted silently from foot to foot as they waited, impatiently.

"Five more minutes and we're heading downstairs," Dean growled as he paced the area. Frustrated, he kicked a stray bottle and watched as it clattered down the dirty hallway. Spinning, it came to rest against one of the open doors several feet away.

Rachel considered bringing up the flaw in the man's logic but decided it was better to stay mute. She turned her attention to the hallway the others should be coming from and willed them to appear.

The search progressed quickly at first as Johnny and Bob took turns opening the doors and examining the rooms. They moved down the corridor within minutes. Then they came to a large open area where there were several pieces of broken furniture strewn about. Just to be thorough, they split up and headed off around the room, checking under the pieces of cardboard and other refuse.

"Have you found anything yet?" Johnny called out quietly to the large military man. Bob was moving a little bit slower as his fatigue mounted but otherwise wasn't showing any signs of his last several days of illness.

"No," Bob replied. He was in the far corner of the room, picking among a table and a file cabinet. The wood under his feet felt a little loose, almost foamy in texture. Just as he was about to move off of it, one of the boards creaked. Then the whole section gave away, sending Bob and the furniture tumbling to the floor below.

"Bob!" Johnny cried out as he tried to get closer to the cave in only to find that he couldn't, the floor was threatening to give way further.

The only response was a low moan and waves of dust coming up through the hole.

"Damn it," Johnny swore as he tore out of the room. "This is not what we need right now."

The paramedic found the other two standing at the stairway, staring toward him, looking slightly stunned. "What the hell happened?" Dean demanded as Johnny grew closer. They'd heard the sound of rending and then things falling but had no idea what it meant.

"The floor gave out, Bob fell below. Come on!" Johnny reported as he sprinted by them. Taking the stairs two at time, it took only moments to reach the basement. Turning at the bottom of the stairs, Johnny raced across the open area, basically hurtling over the abandoned sewing machines in his haste to reach the fallen man.

The pile of debris was spread over a large area. Johnny ran to the nearest section and began pulling pieces away. "Bob! Bob! Where are you?" he called as he worked.

"Bob!" Rachel echoed as she moved a few feet away and similarly began to dig. It took her a moment or two to realize what she was looking at after she pulled a section of ceiling off. The legs were bare, not what she'd expected. Carefully, Rachel pulled some more garbage off only to find that it wasn't Bob.

"Sam?" she said, somewhat incredulously. That was the last person she'd expected to see. In an instant Dean was by her side, pulling debris off his unconscious brother.

A sound behind them drew Rachel's attention away from the pile and toward a closet. As she watched, Reid, Mike and Roy came tumbling out of it. "Oh, my God," she breathed. The other two men were still too involved in digging Sam and Bob out to have noticed them.

"Guys?" she called as she stood up and moved toward the trio. Roy looked like hell. She could easily see that the elder paramedic was having great difficulty staying on his feet. Reid wasn't in much better shape, being dressed only in the turnout coat as far as she could tell. In a heartbeat she closed the distance and was helping Mike carry Roy over to where Sam and Bob were being pulled out.

"Roy?" Johnny squeaked as he realized who Rachel had with her. He blinked for a moment, making sure he wasn't imagining things before he saw the crooked grin on his partner's face. As much as he wanted to go to Roy, Johnny knew he had to check Sam and Bob over. Both men were covered in a light layer of dust. In a few places on Sam, the dust was turning red as cuts and punctures bled freely.

Dean was by his brother's side. Carefully, he rolled Sam onto his back and cradled his head on his lap. "Sam?" he asked quietly as he gazed on Sam's unconscious face. Not all of the wounds were new. He could easily see that through the dust. The fact that his brother was virtually naked was also not lost on him.

Rachel got the trio settled before she helped Johnny finish pulling the last piece of wood off of Bob. The military man was coming around if the small moans he was making was any indication. Johnny was all ready running his hands over Bob's limbs, looking for broken bones. Rachel used her shirt tail to wipe some of the dust off his face.

"We need to let Agent Booth know where we are," Johnny said as he continued his examination. Despite the fall, Bob didn't appear to have broken his arms or his legs. Now the paramedic was checking other areas, like his ribs. "We need to get everyone out of here."

Dean dug the radio out of his pocket and keyed the mike. "We found them but there's been trouble. We're in the basement, we could use some help," he said. Dean knew there was a protocol when using the radio. He just didn't care enough to do it. The sooner they got help, the sooner they got the hell out of here.

"10-4" Booth's voice responded. "Our ETA is five minutes."


	28. Chapter 28

_I'm sorry this is a little on the short side. I hope you enjoy it any way!_

_Susanne_

Under normal circumstances, Agent Booth would have stormed his way into the command centre of the warehouse they were exiting and demand to talk to however was in charge. But, with Dean's call he knew that time was of the essence. A quick glance out either side of the door and then he and the others were sprinting toward the nearest doorway of the second warehouse.

Once inside the door, it was easy to figure out what the emergency was. The huge gaping hole was a little obvious. In a moment the three of them were bounding down the stairs.

"Over here!" Johnny called. They'd pulled all the debris off of Sam and Bob. Johnny had his patients lined up in a clear area just below the stairs. Rachel was wiping blood off of Sam's face while Dean hovered nearby.

"What the hell happened?" Booth demanded. In an instant he took in Sam and Spencer's lack of appropriate clothing. Roy was lying on the ground beside Bob. Booth would have expected him to be tending the other man but instead he had his eyes closed and grimaced every once in a while as pain passed through his body.

For his part, Bob was sitting up, holding his right arm carefully against his side, as if he were protecting it. From the shallow way the man was breathing, Booth assumed that one of more of the ribs were broken or at least badly bruised. As he watched, Bob's face screwed up for a moment as pain passed through his side.

"The floor gave out," Johnny responded helpfully. He was checking over Spencer even though the younger man didn't seem to appreciate the attention. Booth got the impression that the thin man wanted to disappear into any hole available. Johnny had done all he could for Bob, which wasn't much without his kit. Sam was in worse shape but that was partially from the torture he'd survived earlier. Torture that Spenser had survived as well. Who the hell were these guys? The paramedic asked himself as he worked. Why did they kidnap Sam and Spencer?

"Really? I kind of figured that out by myself," Booth growled. He quickly looked around the basement to see if there were any other access points. Trusting Mack and Nick to keep things here under control, he set off to check the area more thoroughly. With all the destruction, he couldn't see the entire room.

"What were they doing to them?" Nick asked as he knelt down beside Sam and began to help the woman tend him. He had a few first aid supplies in his kit. Setting it down beside him, he opened it and delved into its depths. He came up with a bottle of saline water and clean bandages. He handed some of the bandages and the water over to Rachel. Nick then turned his attention to the cleaned wounds and began to cover them with bandages and tape.

"I'm not sure," Rachel responded. When she looked up at the young CSI, he saw tears shimmering in the corners of her brown eyes. Clearly she was very unnerved by the whole thing. As he watched, she finished cleaning Sam's face and tenderly brushed some of his long, brown bangs out of his closed eyes. "Whatever it was, I hope they pay for it."

Nick was somewhat taken aback by the venom in the last words. Behind the tears he saw anger burning in her dark eyes. Then she looked away, intent on getting as much of the blood and grime off the young man as she could. Nick found a puncture wound in Sam's right forearm. It had stopped bleeding and Rachel had all ready cleaned it as best she could. Carefully, he wrapped it with some of the bandage.

Dean was standing nearby, practically vibrating in his anger. They'd hurt his little brother. He didn't know who they were but he had every intention of finding out. In his anger and guilt at not being able to protect Sam, Dean had a hard time looking at the cuts and scrapes peppered over his brother's skin. He was grateful that Rachel and Dean were taking care of him, the elder Winchester wasn't sure of his own abilities at the moment. All he really wanted to do was pound the hell out of someone, anyone.

"We have to get out of here before they come looking," Booth stated upon his return. He didn't want to be trapped in here when they came looking for their guinea pigs. He knew from what they'd seen next door that the people who'd grabbed the duo were government. Not his part of the government but they certainly had backing of some kind. All the equipment had been state of the art, top of the line stuff. Some of it he'd never even seen before.

"How do you suppose we do that?" Johnny asked as he looked around at the wounded. There were four wounded and six of them capable of helping. They needed another two people at least to get them all out of here at the same time.

"If we have to, we'll make more than one trip," Booth replied. Without waiting for a reaction, he bent down and started to haul the semi-conscious Roy to his feet.

In an instant Mike was by his side, slipping Roy's closest arm over his shoulders. The engineer wasn't leaving his friend behind. Not for anything in the world. Roy struggled to open his eyes but his concussion was making that difficult. He felt like he was hearing and moving through a room full of water. Everything was muffled and his limbs seemed unusually heavy and noncompliant. Roy was greatly relieved to know that his partner was nearby. At least someone was going to be able to help the others.

"Yeah, that's going to be really unobvious," Dean growled. He still wanted to beat the crap out of someone. A glance as his still unconscious brother and the feeling increased tenfold. Dean was forced to take three deep, calming breaths before his heart stopped trying to escape his chest. He watched as Nick and Rachel finished cleaning him up and applying bandages to the worst of the cuts. Why the hell had they taken Sammy's clothing? Dean wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

"We don't have much choice," Johnny responded. Gently, he pulled Spencer up to his feet and handed him off to Rachel. Of the three, he was the most ambulatory so they could get away with leaving the woman in charge of him. Tears still shimmering in her eyes, Rachel placed a careful arm around his thin torso and began to lead the stumbling young man towards the stairs. The sooner they got out of there the sooner they'd get the wounded to the hospital.

"Are you okay?" she asked as she shifted his weight a little better against her side. He was so thin it nearly broke her heart. Between that and his underdressed state, she wanted nothing more than to get him someplace warm and safe.

"I'd really like to go home now," Spencer breathed. He unconsciously huddled a little closer to the woman. The basement was cold and she felt wonderfully warm. The strength in her arm surprised him. He suddenly felt a little bit weaker. Between the sounds and the cold, his strength was quickly evaporating.

"You and me both. Let's settle for the hospital for now, okay?" Rachel responded as she quickly guided the faltering young man toward the stairs. She kept waiting for the alarms to go off, indicating that they'd been found.

"Okay," Spencer agreed. Anywhere was better than here.

Behind them, Mack took charge of Bob while Nick and Dean gently picked up Sam. Johnny and Mike took charge of Roy while Booth led the way. They were getting the hell out of here before anything else could happen.


	29. Chapter 29

_Thank you again to everyone reading this. I have no idea where it's going but that's just the way I write. If you have any ideas or criticisms please let me know. Lastly, I have no idea of the landscape around Los Angeles so if I've made any mistakes; please forgive them as writer's prerogative. In my mind it makes perfect sense!_

_Susanne_

As a group, they made their way quickly to the Land Rover. Just as they reached the safety of the vehicle, a shout rang out behind them. Booth turned to see three men in military uniforms sprinting towards them. The one in the lead was pulling his gun out of its holster on his left hip.

"Get in!" Booth ordered. He pulled his own weapon out and used the passenger door as cover while the others piled into the vehicle as fast as they could manage. One of the men was talking on a hand held radio as he continued to run toward them. Damn, damn, damn, Booth thought. They were half a block away.

Sam was unceremoniously dumped into the back of the vehicle, Rachel and Dean crawled in beside him. Nick, Bob and Mack climbed into the back seat and pulled Spencer and Roy on top of them. Bob tried to protect his ribs as best he could but getting into the Land Rover quickly was of more importance.

Mike and Johnny squeezed into the front seat, leaving room for Booth since he still had the keys. The guard in the lead took aim and fired as Booth left the safety of the door to run to the other side. Luckily his aim was off and the bullet ricocheted off the door. They were now a quarter of a block away. Behind them, a big black sedan came screaming out of the parking lot a block away and headed toward them.

Booth jumped into the driver seat and slid the keys into the ignition. He had the vehicle moving almost before he had it started. He aimed the vehicle right at the guards, trying to throw them off their game. At the last second, the men jumped to the side, firing their weapons randomly at the vehicle as it roared by.

The black sedan headed right toward the Land Rover. The man driving wore a dark suit and sun glasses. "Hold on!" Booth ordered as he gunned the engine. If they wanted to play chicken, he intended to win.

"This is nuts," Rachel breathed. She was curled up beside Sam in the back of the vehicle among the miscellaneous items Johnny usually carried with him everywhere. Dean was lying on Sam's other side, trying to protect his unconscious brother from the jostling of the vehicle as they careened down the street. Rachel found a blanket under her so she pulled it out and threw it over Sam's near-naked form. At least they left him his underwear, Rachel thought to herself.

Johnny and Mike were bracing themselves for impact in the front seat when Booth took a sharp right into the alley just before he reached the sedan. There was the sound of screeching tires as the driver of the sedan tried to follow. He hadn't had enough time to compensate though and wound up side swiping the building along the right side of the entranceway. The sedan bounced sideways a foot or two before the driver got control of it again.

For his part, Booth had maintained control of the Land Rover and was just jumping over the next street as he blew through the alley. As he reached the second street, the federal agent threw the vehicle into a left turn and headed down the street. A few blocks away he knew that there was a park. With this type of vehicle, he figured he'd lose them by driving through it.

"Keep an eye on the rear view mirror," Booth ordered Johnny who was sitting in the middle of the front seat. "Let me know if they come back."

"Sure," Johnny replied. He'd been staring in the back seat anyway. He was worried about the injured in the back, especially Spencer and Roy in their precarious locations on the others' laps. The young doctor seemed to be surviving the best. While Roy had his head leaning against the passenger window with his eyes closed. Watching the world flash by at the speed Booth was driving at made the nausea that much worse. It was better if he kept his eyes closed.

Beyond the others' heads he just made out the sedan turning onto the street they were barrelling down. A half block ahead of them, another sedan pulled out and tried to catch up with the fugitives.

"The first car's pulled onto the street. Another sedan has pulled out as well. They're half a block closer and closing," Johnny informed the federal agent beside him.

"We'll just make it," Booth breathed. The park was half a block away. He had his foot all the way to the floor, ignoring all traffic laws as the engine screamed. The park was circled by a low hedge which only had one entrance, a large arch. It wasn't quite big enough for the Land Rover. It was never intended for a motor vehicle to pass. The side view mirrors ripped through the bushes as the vehicle soared through it.

People enjoying the park jumped out of the way as Booth piloted the vehicle through the picnic area. Beyond it was a stream that led to a less populated area that was primarily trees, shrubs and grass. He was careful to not hit anyone but he also didn't slow down. They needed to get away from these people. Not that it really mattered much. If they were who he thought they were, getting the refugees back to the Station wasn't going to do any good. They all ready knew that was where he should be heading with them.

As Booth raced through the park, bounced across the narrow stream and headed out into the wilderness. Somehow that seemed like a better idea at the moment. "Are they still behind us?" Booth called out.

"Not yet," Johnny replied. The interior of the vehicle was strangely quiet, as if everyone was afraid to say anything and break the agent's concentration.

Rachel had lowered her head so she couldn't see what was going on. This was one of those times she felt better not knowing that was happening around her. Instead, she turned her attention to the two young men lying in the back with her. Dean was staring at his brother like he expected him to disappear again. She couldn't really blame him after everything they've gone through so far. She really wondered if they were ever going to get back to where they belonged. Rachel missed her family fiercely and like Spencer wanted to go home.

Beside her, Rachel could feel Sam starting to stir. Despite the roar of the engine and the bumping going on in the back of the vehicle, she heard a small groan. Dean was instantly leaning over his brother, making sure he was okay as Sam's dark grey eyes fluttered open.

"Dean?" he said, blinking his eyes rapidly like he wasn't sure he was seeing right.

"Yeah, little brother," Dean responded. Rachel could feel the relief flowing off the man in waves. They really were close, closer than most brothers she'd seen. The only siblings she'd seen that close were her brothers and herself. A wave of homesickness crashed over her.

"Where are Spencer and the others?" Sam asked as he shifted under the blanket. The rear of the Land Rover wasn't that big for someone of his height. Sam was feeling a little claustrophobic. He glanced to his left and spied Rachel. "Hi, Rachel," he said, a crooked smile spreading across his lips.

"They're up front," Dean replied. "How do you feel?"

"Like I've been run over by a truck," Sam replied, his voice hoarse from dehydration.

"What did they do to you?" Rachel asked. She desperately wanted to know but she also dreaded the answer.

"They took biopsies. Of everything," Sam replied, his face turning a little red with embarrassment at the memory.

"Everything?" Dean parroted. He ran a trembling hand through his kid brother's dark hair, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. It's something he used to do when Sam was little. It used to calm him like nothing else. Today, however, it only worked marginally. Sam was shifting under the blanket, trying to find a comfortable position. So far he hadn't found one.

"Yeah, dude, everything," Sam breathed. He pulled his long legs up and braced his feet against the hatch of the Land Rover. Somehow that seemed to help. "Where are we going?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Dean said. "We're trying to outrun the people who had you."

"And how's that going for us?" Sam asked. He was willing to do anything to get off the subject of what had been done to him. Beside him, Rachel moved and then held a bottle of saline to his lips. There wasn't much left and it wasn't what she normally would have offered him but it was better than nothing.

Greedily, Sam took long swallows. It was salty but it still quenched the thirst. He handed it back to her before he drained it. Sam didn't want to be the one to finish it in case there wasn't any more.

"Don't know yet. I'll let you know when I do," Dean responded. He braved a look over the back of the seat but it didn't really tell him anything. All he saw was the back of Bob's head and trees flashing by outside. Behind them all he saw were trees.

"Yeah, you do that," Sam said. His eyes were getting heavy again despite the numerous aches and pains playing through his body. He gave it a valiant effort but ultimately he lost as Sam's eye lids slid shut and oblivion took him.

"Those bastards," Dean growled. Frustrated, he tried to sit up and see what was going on. The Land Rover hit a particularly vicious bump sending Dean, Roy, and Spencer flying into the roof.

"What the hell??" Dean demanded as he massaged the pump he knew was going to appear on his head.

"We're almost there," Booth replied, never taking his eyes off his driving. The sedans were a long ways behind them even if they'd tried to follow them. He knew the back country pretty well and was hoping to find a cabin or something he could hide the refugees and the firemen in. If he brought Roy, Johnny and Mike back to the station the government agents would be all over them. As much as they needed medical attention, Booth wasn't sure that they'd receive any if he took them back.

Could things get any worse? Booth wondered as they bounced their way through the trees. He desperately hoped they wouldn't find out.


	30. Chapter 30

This looks good enough, Booth thought to himself. They'd been travelling for two hours, having had to backtrack once when the woods closed in so much that Booth couldn't get the Land Rover through. In the entire time there had been no sign of their pursuers. While this made Booth breath a little easier, he also knew that their trail was clear enough for a blind man to follow if he had an inclination.

Trying to throw their eventual pursuers off their scent, Booth had taken the first road they'd come upon for a few miles before heading off cross-country again. During their travels they'd wound up near a secluded lake that was virtually surrounded by large, fashionable cabins. There was enough room between the cabins that the owners didn't have to look at their neighbours, which suited Booth's purposes perfectly.

Driving slowly, he scanned the various buildings, looking for one that was large enough for everyone but was uninhabited. Booth could pull his credentials if he needed to but he'd much rather just break in and use it without anyone knowing.

"Where are we going?" Johnny asked. He was keeping watch over the injured and knew that they were at the end of their endurance. They needed to find someplace where he could treat them very soon. Obviously there wasn't a hospital anywhere near where they currently were.

"I'm looking for a place," Booth growled. He had put his career and his life on the line for these people. He'd hoped they'd be a little more grateful, at least grateful enough to trust his judgement.

"What kind of place?" Mack demanded from the back seat. He felt like a sardine. As skinny as Reid looked after all this time he was starting to get heavy. The lanky boy in his lap was trying to make himself as unobtrusive as possible but the car was only so big. Mack could feel Bob trembling beside him. A quick glance at his companion and he knew they needed to find someplace safe soon.

Beyond Bob's pale, sweaty face, Mack could see Nick trying to keep Roy upright. The paramedic had fallen asleep or passed out. Mack figured it was more like he'd lost consciousness. The bouncing and jerking of the vehicle pre-empted any attempt to rest.

"Any place," Booth breathed. Finally he saw it. A sprawling, one level cabin that showed no signs of anyone being there. Pulling the Land Rover up beside the cabin, among a dense grove of trees, Booth shifted it into park and killed the engine. "Wait here."

Climbing out of the cooling vehicle, Booth set out to do a quick reconnaissance of the area. The neighbours were also away, improving their privacy considerably. The federal agent spied through windows, making sure there was no one inside.

Satisfied, he looked in the most obvious places for a key. He really didn't want to damage the house if he could get away with it. Hopefully the homeowners would never know they were there. The third place he checked revealed a key. Booth quickly unlocked the front door and completed his canvas of the house, just to make absolutely sure.

"Okay, everyone into the house," Booth ordered upon returning to the vehicle. He'd pulled the back passenger door open and had to scramble to catch Spencer as the younger man tumbled out. It kind of freaked him out that both he and Sam were practically nude. If it wasn't for the turnout jackets Booth would have had an even tougher time trying to deal with the situation. Quickly, he stood Spencer back up onto his feet.

"Do you know who lives here?" Rachel asked. The three of them had to wait for someone to open the back door so they could climb out.

"No," Booth answered cryptically. As quickly as they could manage, he ushered his charges into the house. There was no garage to hide the Land Rover in. He was going to have to deal with that very soon.

With obvious exhaustion, the group wandered into the front entrance of the cabin and looked around. Dean and Rachel steered Sam toward the first chair they found. The taller man was beyond tired. Slumping in the chair, Sam's eyes started to close. "Try to stay with us, dude," Dean breathed as he propped his brother up.

Not sure what else to do, Rachel caught hold of the dazed young doctor and began leading him toward the cabin. Well, this should be a little better than the Station as far as privacy goes, she thought. Suddenly the Station seemed more like home than home did. She was very grateful to have Johnny, Roy and Mike here, not to mention Nick. Otherwise, she would have had to deal with panic rearing its ugly head.

"What are we doing here?" Spencer asked. The light seemed to hurt his eyes. He was squinting as he looked around them. Rachel had the feeling he wasn't quite with them. She wasn't sure she blamed him.

"I think Booth is trying to keep us safe," Rachel assured him as she helped the much taller man stumble toward the front room. If Spencer had weighed more she would have had more trouble handling him, as it was, he just kind of draped himself over her shoulder and she walked.

"Why not take us back to the Station?" Spencer asked. His mind really wasn't working all that well. Logically he figured that it was a delayed reaction to everything he'd endured since appearing here. Emotionally, he felt drained.

"I don't think it's safe anymore," Rachel responded. She was making this up as she went along, anything to keep Spencer moving.

"Oh," Spencer breathed. Every available surface had a person sitting or lying on it. Shifting Spencer a little to keep from dropping him, Rachel steered him toward the next room. She'd rather he was lying down anyway.

Once she was sure Spencer was comfortable in the first bed she found, Rachel headed back toward the front room. She wanted to find out what the plan was. She was desperately hoping there was a plan.

"Now that we're here," Johnny was saying as he examined Roy more closely. He was deeply concerned for his friend and partner. He was showing signs of shock and a concussion. "What the hell are we doing?"

"Regrouping," Booth stated. He looked around at the refugees and firemen. A feeling of helplessness was starting to set in.

"You have no idea where to go from here, do you?" Dean demanded. He had Sam sprawled on the couch. The others were going to have to take care of themselves. His kid brother was his only concern at the moment. Well, that and getting home.

"No, not really," Booth admitted as he slid down the nearest wall and found himself sitting on the floor. What were they going to do now?

"Why didn't you take us to the Station or to a hospital?" Johnny demanded. He needed help to treat these people. The enormity of the situation was really beginning to hit home. His hand shook slightly as he took Roy's life signs.

"The people that grabbed them were from the government," Booth admitted. "While we were searching the other warehouse I saw the head doctor that checked you guys over at the Station. Apparently he didn't like being told he couldn't use drugs to interrogate you."

"They didn't ask us any questions," Sam muttered from the couch.

"Maybe they hadn't gotten that far yet," Mike suggested. "They didn't even come to check on Roy and I. We were left in that cold, dark room the entire time."

"I think that beats the alternative," Dean muttered, not feeling real sympathetic at the moment. At least the firemen had been left with all of their clothes still on their bodies. Speaking of which, Dean stood up and headed into the nearest room, he was tired of looking at his brother's lanky legs.

"You've taken a real chance rescuing us and bring us here, haven't you?" Mike said. He chose to ignore the younger man's comment. He knew it was due to frustration but responding to it wasn't going to help the situation.

"Well, it wasn't exactly an authorized operation," Booth admitted.

"There's no food in this place," Dean announced as he entered the room, a pair of sweats and a shirt clutched in his hand. It was going to be big but it was better than nothing.

"It's a cabin, they probably bring everything with them," Booth growled. Dean was really getting on his nerves.

"They all need food. What do you suggest we do, go out in the woods and rustle up some grub?" Dean asked as he casually dressed his brother. Sam was embarrassed but he didn't have the strength to argue.

"Fine, all of you stay here. I'm going to go get some food. If it gets dark before I come back, don't turn on any of the lights. We have to make everyone believe this place is still empty," Booth ordered. He was relieved to be able to leave. It gave him a chance to breathe and figure things out.

"Are there any more clothes?" Rachel asked as Booth brushed by her. She knew she'd be going crazy if she didn't have anything to cover up with. She imagined Spencer wasn't too comfortable either.

"Yeah, in the last bedroom," Dean responded as he pulled the t-shirt over Sam's head and got his brother to lie down again.

"Thanks." Leaving the men behind, Rachel headed for the last bedroom. It felt really weird to be ransacking the cabin. The property belonged to someone. They hadn't given any of them permission to be here much less stealing clothes. But, it beat the alternative. In the large dresser along the far wall, she found a t-shirt, sweater and a pair of jeans. They were all too big but she found a belt to help with that.

The men were still talking, their voices drifting down the hall. Ignoring them, Rachel headed into the bedroom she'd left Spencer in. As she walked in she stopped in her tracks. The bed was empty, the blankets in disarray. Had they been found? Had Spencer been captured again? Thoughts swirled around her head, freezing her in place until she saw the bare foot on the other side of the bed. Spencer was on the ground.

Tossing the clothes on the bed on her way by, Rachel sank to her knees beside the trembling young doctor. He was lying on his stomach with his head away from her. Unsure of what to do, Rachel carefully laid her hand on his back and gently shook him, hoping to illicit some form of response.

"Spencer?" Rachel called softly. At first the only reaction was a low moan. Then Spencer lifted his head and turned it toward her. His face was white as a sheet and slick with sweat. "What happened?"

"I needed to go to the bathroom," Spencer breathed. He shook his head slightly, to try to clear the cob webs. He couldn't quite remember how he came to be lying on the floor. He was cold so it must have been more than a few minutes since he fell but he honestly didn't remembered.

"Oh," Rachel huffed, not quite sure how to react to that. Carefully, she helped Spencer climb back onto the bed before trying to get him to his feet. That way he wouldn't have so far to fall if he passed out again. She really didn't want to have to deal with this but she was the only one here. "I'll get you there but you have to do the rest by yourself."

"That was what I was planning on doing," Spencer replied, his face nearly as red as hers. They were both embarrassed and trying desperately to not show it.

"Okay. I found you some clothes. They're going to be too big but they're better than nothing," Rachel informed him as she pulled them off the bed. Then she helped the taller man to the bathroom down the hall.

"Thank you," Spencer said shyly once she had him in the room beside the toilet and the clothes on the counter beside him.

"You're welcome. I'm not going to lock the door and I'll be right outside if you need anything," Rachel said as she slipped gratefully out of the room. Outside, she leaned against the closed door and took a few deep breaths. Damn, she wanted to go home.


	31. Chapter 31

_I'm sorry this took so long and that there isn't much action but it's what came out. Thank you to everyone that is reading this story and especially to those of you taking the time to review. I love hearing what you have to say!_

_Susanne_

Now that Spencer had been tended to, Rachel was wandering around the cabin. She didn't feel much like going to the front room where the rest of the men were. She discovered that there were four bedrooms and three bathrooms. Nice. Two of the bedrooms had single beds which would be helpful. Spencer was in the master bedroom. Now that the young doctor was finally asleep Rachel didn't have the heart to disturb him.

Having scoped the entire cabin Rachel wandered back to the living room. This place was bigger than her whole house. Sam was still sprawled on the couch but at least now he was dressed. From where she was standing Rachel wasn't sure if he was even awake. Dean sat precariously on the couch arm, not willing to be any farther than necessary from his brother.

In the far corner, Roy was slumped in a large chair. His eyes were closed so Rachel wasn't sure if he was awake either. Johnny was fussing over Bob who stood carefully by the window along the far wall. The military man appeared to be uncomfortable with the attention but he put up with it while the paramedic examined his side.

The others were silent. Nick was standing by the fireplace to Rachel's right. The CSI was leaning against the mantle, his arms folded across his chest. For his part, Mack stood a few feet from Bob, just in case his friend needed help. The engineer stood on the other side of the mantle. He didn't look particularly happy as he hovered over the senior paramedic.

"Maybe we should get the injured into beds," Rachel suggested. Sam's tall frame looked squished within the confines of the couch. "There are enough beds here for all of them."

"Sounds like a good idea," Johnny responded. He'd done a brief check on everyone. As much as he wanted to get Roy to a hospital it appeared that was out of the question. The next best thing would be to get him and the others someplace where they could rest quietly and comfortable.

"Any suggestions?" Dean asked. He hadn't taken the time to check out the house. The mere fact that he hadn't indicated to him just how badly rattled he was. John Winchester would have been very disappointed in him.

"Well, there are two rooms with two twin beds in each of them. You and your brother should take one of them," Rachel said. It didn't take a genius to know that the Winchester brothers weren't going to allow themselves to be separated. "Maybe Bob and Mack should take the other one. Spencer is sleeping in the master bedroom. I'd rather not wake him for a while if we can get away with it. The other bedroom should go to Roy. We can move a couple of these lounging chairs into the room for Johnny and Mike."

"Lead the way," Johnny said. He just wanted to get all of them as comfortable as they could be. He trusted the woman. After all she was the only one that had looked around the cabin.

Ten minutes later and all the wounded were in their perspective beds. Nick had decided to go and keep an eye on Spencer since the young doctor didn't have anyone in particular to watch over him. The CSI figured Rachel was going to be busy helping with the relocation. He suddenly felt very old at he looked at Spencer's face as he slept. He seemed so much younger and vulnerable when he was asleep.

Sam looked considerably more comfortable in the bed even though it too was a little on the short side. Dean hovered over his brother, just in case he needed anything. Even in his sleep, Sam was grimacing in pain every once in a while. If there was something that drove Dean crazy it was feeling helpless. Kind of like he felt right now. Frustrated, the eldest Winchester ground his teeth as he plopped down into the only chair in the room.

"Are you going to be okay?" Rachel managed to ask. She was checking on everyone, making sure they had what they needed and were comfortable. It was the job her mother usually took on so she guessed it was kind of genetic. Even now, Dean made her kind of nervous, especially with the grim look on his face.

"Yeah, we'll be fine," Dean answered absently. He only had enough energy to concentrate on his brother.

"I'll let you know when the food gets here and is ready," Rachel promised as she gratefully slipped out of the room. Next on her mental list was Bob. She still had a soft spot for the military man after watching him for so many hours. The fact that he'd been injured again didn't seem particularly fair in her mind.

Mack and Bob were in the next room down the hall. Padding over to the door, Rachel cracked it open and glanced inside. If the men were asleep she didn't want to wake them. She should have known better. As soon as the door knob had rattled Mack was standing over his sleeping partner.

"Hi," Rachel said feeling more than a little foolish. "I just wanted to make sure you guys were all right."

Glancing over at Bob, Mack paused before he answered. In the dim light he could see the pallor of his friend's face and that a thin sheen of sweat had broken out on his forehead. The ribs were bad. He knew the younger man was as tough as they come but the illness directly followed by the injury was wearing him out. "We could use some water in case Bob wakes up," he finally suggested.

"I don't think they have bottled water yet but I'll see what I can find," Rachel replied as she quietly closed the door. She decided to check on the others and see if they needed water or anything else as well before getting Bob his water. No use making more trips than necessary.

Her next stop was the third bedroom where Johnny and Mike had set up a mildly protesting Roy. The mere fact that Roy had barely argued at all indicated to the other two firemen just how ill he was feeling. Not a good sign.

This time Rachel chose to knock. Three men in the room, she wasn't going to take a chance. Just a couple of quick raps and the door slid open a crack. Just inside stood Mike, the engineer immediately opened the door the rest of the way. "Come in," he said. Roy was sleeping fitfully on the bed while Johnny hovered by the bed.

"I just wanted to see if you needed anything. I'm on my way to get water for Bob," Rachel stated, suddenly feeling shy.

"Water would be a good idea," Johnny said. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it himself. All four of them must be dehydrated. The junior paramedic rested his hand on his partner's forehead. Roy was laying under the covers in his t-shirt and boxers. Johnny had wrapped as many blankets as he could find in the room around him. Despite the fact the cabin was relatively warm, Roy continued to shiver. He wasn't sure he'd ever be warm again.

"They didn't take samples from you two?" Rachel asked, glancing at Mike. She didn't quite understand the extent of Roy's injuries. He had a gash on his head that was bruising quite badly but that still didn't explain all the symptoms.

"No," Mike breathed. He'd be eternally grateful for that after seeing the condition of the other two. "Roy was struck in the head."

"Oh," Rachel replied. That would explain things, especially if he was hit hard enough. "Do you need a basin with some water and clothes?"

"Thanks, that would be great," Johnny said. He was relieved the woman was around. He didn't feel the need to keep watch over the others now that he was finished his initial assessments of them. Johnny knew she'd keep an eye on them so he could concentrate on Roy.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," Rachel assured them as she slipped back out of the room.

As Rachel stood at the kitchen faucet, filling a pitcher and a bowl that she'd found with water from the tap the front door of the cabin opened. It took every ounce of strength she had to keep from dropping the items into the sink and shattering them. The fear that it was the owners of the property jumped foremost in her mind. Jumping, she turned to face the door.

Hoisting three bags full of groceries, Booth lumbered into the kitchen. Dropping them on the counter, he looked at the terrified expression on the woman's face and he instinctively reached for his side arm. "What?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry," Rachel said trying to stifle the need to laugh as the tension vanished. "I thought you were the owners coming to spend the weekend or something!"

"Don't worry. I've all ready talked to them. I told them the FBI were using their cabin as a safe house but it was on the QT. The guy at the grocery story knew who the owners are," Booth assured her. "How well do you cook?"

"Well, that depends," Rachel stated.

"On what?" Booth asked. He was sorting through all the bags, pulling stuff out of them.

"Whether or not you want to eat it," Rachel replied, a grin flashing across her face before she ducked her head.

"Ah." Booth sorted through the items and began placing the ones he was going to use aside. "Then I guess I'm cooking.

"Where are the others?" he asked as he finished putting the rest of the food away.

"They're in the bedrooms. We figured it was more comfortable than the front room. I was just taking them some water. How long until the food is ready?"

"Give me an hour," Booth stated as he began banging around the kitchen looking for pots and pans.

"I don't know if they'll wait the long but I'll tell them." Rachel collected up the plastic tumblers, the pitcher of water and the bowl with its assorted clothes inside it and headed down the hall.


	32. Chapter 32

_Well, this is definitely longer but I'm not sure it's better. I really struggled with this chapter so please let me know what you think! I started it three separate times. Some of what I wrote the other times is in here but mostly it's gone off on its own direction again. Thanks for sticking with me!_

_Susanne_

"Here's your water," Rachel said as she carefully opened the door to Dean and Sam's room. The basin of water for Roy was sitting on the floor just outside the room otherwise she would have dropped one or both containers trying to open the door.

"Thanks," Dean said. The elder Winchester was still sitting in the chair, his forearms resting on his knees as he leaned toward his sleeping brother.

"Booth's making supper. He said it'll be ready in about an hour. Do you think Sam'll be up to eating anything?" Rachel chattered while she carefully placed the pitcher and two glasses on the table beside Sam's bed. As she moved away, her eyes fell on Sam's sleeping face. Damn but he looked so young! Swallowing bile at the thought of what he and Spencer had been through, Rachel quickly stood up and headed back toward the door. She paused long enough to turn back to Dean, waiting for his response.

"He will if I have to force feed him," Dean growled. He was determined to get his brother feeling better so that they could get the hell out of here. He wanted to go back to where they belonged and hunt some demons. The world here was too boring, was probably the right word. It was easier to hunt and kill demons than it was humans. At this point, though, Dean was close to being ready to try. If he ever found out for sure who'd done this to his brother, they'd be the first ones on his list.

"Okay. I'll let you know when it's ready. Do you think he will want a shower or something? None of the four of them are particularly clean." Rachel was uncomfortable. When she was uncomfortable she sometimes babbled, like now.

"Is there a shower here?" Dean asked, his eyes lighting up. The woman was right. His brother had a smell all of his own. A shower would be a godsend.

"Yeah, just down the hall to the right," Rachel said. "I noticed that there's towels and soap, shampoo that kind of stuff in it."

"Great. Once Sam wakes up I'll get him in there."

Nodding her head, Rachel slipped the rest of the way out the door and gently closed it. For some unknown reason she was suddenly feeling shy. Usually that only happened when she first met people, not after she'd been with them this long. As she picked up the basin and towels, she wished it would go away. She hated feeling this unsure of herself.

She paused outside the room where Spencer and Nick were. She could hear muffled voices from inside. Either Nick was talking to himself or Spencer was awake. Rather than disturb them, she continued on. She'd tell them about supper after she'd seen the others.

Coming to the door that the firefighters were behind, Rachel again knocked, not wanting to just fling the door open. Just as she reached for the door handle, while juggling the basin and towels, it opened and Mike was standing there. The engineer smiled at her and quickly took the basin out of her hands before it wound up on the floor.

"Thanks," he said as he turned around and headed back inside. Johnny was just checking Roy's vitals while the older man appeared to be asleep. Guilt that their presence here was responsible for the man's injuries suddenly burned in Rachel's stomach. Maybe that was why she was having such a hard time all of a sudden. She wasn't sure. Quickly, she placed the towels down beside the basin and retreated back toward the door.

"Booth is cooking supper. He says it'll be ready in about an hour," Rachel said. She had her back to the door, not quite ready to leave yet but she wanted to keep the option open.

Glancing up at the woman as he took Roy's pulse, Johnny recognized the look in her brown eyes. It was the same cornered expression she'd had back at Rampart that first day. Distantly, the young paramedic thought they were beyond that side of her. Apparently not. Roy and the others weren't the only ones to have been traumatized by the whole situation.

"That's great," Johnny said as he stood up. Roy was holding his own. Right now sleeping was probably the best thing for him so he chose to speak quietly so as not to wake him. "How are you doing?"

The question sent Rachel for a loop. How was she? With all the injured and the guns blazing the paramedic was worried about her? That didn't make a lot of sense to her. The confusion and shock showed on her face while she tried to come up with an answer.

"It's okay," Mike said. He'd recognized the look too. He was being very careful to not stand too closer to her, he was afraid she'd bolt out the door. "You know none of us are going to hurt you."

"Of course I know that," Rachel scoffed. "I just couldn't figure out why you were asking about me. I'm not one of the ones that got hurt."

"You just look a little shell shocked," Johnny stated as he slid back into his chair. The anger had melted away the panic. Rachel looked a little more like herself again. "All of you have had a lot to deal with since you showed up here."

"Maybe," Rachel hedged. "I just wanted to see how Roy's doing before I go and tell Bob and Mack about supper."

"He's about the same," Johnny assured her. "I'll go tell Mack about supper, I want to check on Bob and Spencer anyway."

"I'd love to take a shower if you'd stay here with Roy," Mike suggested. He figured he'd probably have to put the same filthy clothes back on but at least he'd be clean for a few moments.

"I can do that," Rachel said, happy to have something to do. "If you check in Bob's bedroom I think there might be more clothes. See if you can find something for all four of you. Roy, Spencer and Sam are probably going to want to take showers too."

"Sure thing," Mike responded as he followed Johnny out of the room. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Take your time," Rachel responded as she turned to the basin and clothes. Soaking one, she wrung it out and then placed it on Roy's forehead. His face had little lines on it from the pain radiating out of his skull. Roy's skin was pale and had a thin sheen of sweat on it. Gently, Rachel used another cloth to wipe away the moisture.

It felt very strange to her to be sitting so close to the senior paramedic without his blue eyes open. When A shift was not working at the station she'd missed them because she liked talking to Johnny, Roy and the others. Roy also had a presence about him that seemed to calm her when her mind raced or when things became too much for her. Seeing him so still and vulnerable set her stomach spilling.

Unconsciously Rachel started to hum a Christmas carol under her breath as she wiped Roy's face. It calmed her and helped center her. Roy shifted under her fingers but still didn't wake up. Finished with his face, Rachel wiped the sweat off of his neck before dunking the cloth into the water. Still humming, she gently ran her fingers through his blond hair to get it out of his face before sitting back in the chair and waiting for the firemen to return.

"Are we going to spend the night here?" Rachel asked. She was looking outside the west window, watching the sun go down. The sunset was beautiful but it also made her a little afraid. It was a lot harder to see someone coming toward the cabin in the dark.

"Yes," Booth said. They'd finished supper and had washed the dishes. The FBI agent was a very good cook. Rachel was just thankful she didn't have to cook it herself.

"Is that wise?" Nick asked. He'd made sure Spencer had had some food before eating his own supper. The young doctor was recovering fairly quickly now that he'd had some rest and some nourishment. When the CSI left him in the room, Reid was sleeping again but he didn't look quite as pale.

"Where would you suggest we go?" Booth wanted to know.

"Isn't this a little obvious? Won't those people figure out this is the most likely location for us to be in?" Mike asked. The engineer looked a little odd in his too big clothes but he was clean for the first time in days it seemed. The four of them were in the living room, Rachel standing beside the window while the men were around the fireplace.

"Maybe," Booth admitted. "But like I said before, where else would you like us to go?" He'd gone through all of this in his own mind. The need to stay under cover far outweighed his need to put distance between themselves and the warehouses. He'd hidden the Land Rover but hadn't gotten rid of it completely, they may still need it.

"I don't know," Mike admitted. Johnny was with Roy. The younger paramedic had fed his partner before bothering with his own supper. Roy was resting comfortably and had managed to keep what he'd eaten own.

"I'm afraid that they're going to find us here and take Sam and Reid back," Rachel said. She was hoping that whoever kidnapped them would forget about the firemen now that they were gone.

"I won't let that happen," Booth promised the woman.

Rachel chose to stay quiet. Even though she knew the agent believed what he was saying, she wasn't so sure he could be able to deliver on that promise if they were found. Rather than spending time worrying about something she couldn't do anything about or change, Rachel nodded to the men and headed back toward the bedrooms. She wanted to make sure everyone was all right or she was just restless, she wasn't sure which.

"Should we stoke the fire and use the lights or will that give our position away?" Mike asked. Unlike some members of Station 51, the engineer had never been in the army and wasn't used to thinking in terms of combat and stealth.

"It's not supposed to get cold tonight so we shouldn't have to use the fireplace. As far as the lights go, I think so long as we pull the curtains we can use some of them," Booth answered. He wasn't planning on sleeping much tonight anyway. His plans included keeping an eye on the perimeter.

"It's getting late. The rest of you should bunk down for the night wherever you can. We'll plan on leaving in the morning," Booth said as he pulled his jacket over his shoulders and headed outside.

The first bedroom Rachel came to was Spencer's. Opening the door as quietly as possible, she peered inside at the slight man lying under the covers. As she watched, Spencer's head turned toward her.

"How are you feeling?" Rachel asked quietly just in case he was still sleeping. It was hard to tell in the dim light.

"I'd love to take a shower," Reid said into the darkness. Now that he was feeling a little stronger, the smell of his own body was starting to offend him. He wasn't sure he had enough strength to take as long a shower as he'd like but getting some of the grime and blood off of his skin would be a relief.

"Mike has all ready had his. He found clothes for all four of you so you can go anytime you're ready," Rachel said. "The clothes will be big but they'll be clean."

"Anything would be better than how I smell at the moment," Reid replied, relief visible on his face even at a distance.

"I'll go make sure there's no one using it," Rachel said.

"Thank you," Spencer said as he closed his eyes. The young doctor felt the need to rest until Rachel was ready for him. He had every intention of taking the shower alone, without help.

Finally with a purpose, Rachel slipped out of the room and headed for the bathroom. As she walked down the hall she could hear muffled voices behind the doors that she passed. While she couldn't quite hear the words she could tell that Roy and Johnny were speaking as were Bob and Mack. When she passed Sam and Dean's room though, silence was all she heard.

A quick reconnaissance of the bathroom and she headed back to Spencer's room. She'd taken the time to make sure that there were enough clean towels for at least the four of them. The rest of them might have to share but that was okay. At least they were reasonably clean to start with.

"Spencer, I found a towel for you and no one's using the bathroom at the moment. You can take a shower whenever you're ready," Rachel said once she entered the room. As she spoke, Spencer threw the cover off him and proceeded to get off the bed. He was still determined to do this alone, which suited Rachel just fine.

"Okay," Spencer managed as he pried his body off the bed and made his way across the floor. All ready he could feel his energy disappearing. Rachel stood back out of his way and watched him teeter toward the bathroom.

Her next stop was Roy's room. Rachel had been deeply concerned for the paramedic. Spending the time with him earlier had helped alleviate some of that fear. Knocking quietly on the door, Rachel turned the handle and stuck her head through the crack she'd made. "Hi," she said.

Roy was sitting up in the bed, resting against some pillows. He didn't look quite as pale. On the table beside him Rachel could see that Roy's plate was just about empty while Johnny's plate was barely touched.

"Hi," Roy responded, a small smile on his lips. The pounding was still present in his head and the nausea was still there but at least he could keep his eyes open for more than a heart beat at a time.

"It's so good to see you awake!" Rachel breathed, smiling herself. In the chair beside the bed, Johnny was beaming. Now that Roy was looking more like the partner he was used to things didn't seem so bad.

"Yeah, it's good to be awake. Supper was good," Roy said, his voice sounding a lot stronger as well.

"It was very good. Mostly I think that was just because I didn't have to make it," Rachel joked. The depression that had been gnawing at the edges of her psyche was quickly lifting. Maybe it had to do with Roy's blue eyes. That wasn't a line of thought she was willing to follow. Distantly, she wondered how Joanne was doing with the continued disappearance of her husband.

"It could have been worse. Roy could have cooked it!" Johnny joked. Roy DeSoto was good at quite a few things. Cooking wasn't one of his talents. His reputation had spread beyond the confines of Station 51's walls.

"Just wait for my next meal, junior, it'll be a culinary triumph," Roy breathed, a low blush starting in his cheeks.

"No offense but I hope to not be here to enjoy that," Rachel said. She had one ear out the door listening for Reid in the shower. As much as she wanted to give the man his independence, she didn't want to take the chance that he might collapse or otherwise have problems.

Footsteps came thudding down the hallway interrupting further conversation.

"Agents are moving around the cabins on this side of the lake," Nick informed her. "Booth wants us all to get into the cellar below us. Apparently the owners have set up a bomb shelter below with a hidden entrance."

"How much time do we have?" Rachel asked, her eyes trailing toward the bathroom.

"Two minutes," Nick responded as he pulled open the door to Bob and Mack's room. Quickly filling in the two military men, he turned toward Sam and Dean's room.

"Damn," Rachel swore. So much for independence. She covered the distance to the bathroom door in a heartbeat and pulled it open. The water for the shower had turned off just as she stepped inside. Luckily Reid hadn't exited the shower yet so the curtain remained between them.

"Spencer, you need to hurry! We're going below to a bomb shelter. Agents are starting to search the cabins," Rachel explained breathlessly as she pulled the curtain aside enough to thrust a towel into the shaking man's hands.

"What?" Spencer breathed as his legs just about went out from under him. Flashes of what they'd gone through played through his mind.

"Hurry!" Rachel begged. She'd turned away from Spencer to give him a modicum of privacy and grabbed the neatly folded clothes sitting on the counter.

The trembling made drying himself off almost impossible. Finally giving up on it, Spencer reached for the clothes Rachel was holding behind her back. As quickly as he could he pulled the underwear and pants on. Then he struggled to get his arms into the sleeves of the shirt. Everything was very big but at least it was clean. Giving up on the buttons, Spencer held the socks in his hand. They'd have to wait. "Lead the way."

Gratefully, Rachel pulled the door back open just in time to see Roy and Johnny come out of their room. Roy was still pretty weak too and was leaning heavily on his young partner. The doors to the other rooms were open. Glancing over her shoulder, Rachel realized that Spencer was on his last legs as well. Catching hold of him, she steered him out of the room and followed the firemen. She hoped desperately that they knew where they were going. If not they were all lost.


	33. Chapter 33

"Down here!" Booth called quietly to the duo when they stumbled around the corner, not entirely sure where the entrance to the bomb shelter was located.

"Come on, Spencer," Rachel urged as she steered the young man toward the closet Booth's head was sticking out of. Spencer's hair was dripping water on her shoulder as the gangly young man tried to keep up.

Then they were staggering down the stairs into a subterranean room. Booth slid the hatch back into place effectively hiding them entirely.

Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, Rachel looked around. The cabin had been built on top of a huge cement room. She wasn't sure how thick the cement was but it was probably thicker than her own basement walls. They were standing in an antechamber that was ten feet wide by probably a hundred feet long. Just in front of them under a bare light bulb was a metal door.

"What the hell?" Rachel breathed. Booth slid by her and Spencer and pulled the ponderous door open. Inside was another chamber with cement walls. Beyond that there was another large metal door.

"The average bomb shelter was built during the scare in the 1950's," Spencer began to recite. He said a whole lot of other statistics about bomb shelters but Rachel had a hard time trying to wrap her mind around where she was standing and missed a good deal of it.

Booth turned the light off and closed the door behind them before pulling open the next one.

Rachel was beginning to feel a little tingly around her fingers and toes. As she moved forward to follow the two men, she held her right hand out and stared at the offending appendages. They looked the same. Then her vision kind of doubled. Kind of, because she was seeing the cement floor she was walking on beyond her fingers but also she could see the beige carpet that covered her parent's living room. "What the hell?" she breathed.

Then the episode passed and she was standing in an industrial kitchen surrounded by the other members of their group.

"How long are we going to have to stay down here?" Johnny asked. He was concerned for the injured and wanted to know how long they were going to have to wait for a thorough medical exam.

"I'm not sure," Booth replied honestly.

"How do we know they're gone?" Nick asked. He didn't like the feeling of being underground. He wasn't necessarily claustrophobic but knowing how much cement was between them and the blue sky was disconcerting.

"Back here," Mack said. He'd set Bob down in the breakfast nook. "There are hidden cameras all over the cabin."

As a single entity, the group moved over to the bank of thirteen inch televisions. On each screen, images from the cabin interior and exterior were shown. In the bottom right hand corner screen they could see two agents walk up to the front door and knock. They could hear the hollow thuds through a microphone. No one spoke just in case the mic was two way.

Once they established there was no one home, one of the agents pulled out a lock pick kit and picked the lock. They wanted to search the house but leave no trace that they had. Kicking in the door would have left evidence.

Watching the screens, they saw the duo move from room to room. Then, much to everyone's dismay, the leader of the two spoke on the phone. Minutes later several other agents moved into the house.

"What are they doing?" Rachel asked. None of this was making sense to her.

"I think they're setting up this cabin as a command post for their search," Booth stated, his voice quiet in disbelief. Of all the luck!!

"Great!" Dean swore. Sam was sitting in the breakfast nook as well. He had his elbows resting on the table and his head was hanging down. The most lasting effect of their captivity seemed to be a splitting head ache that just wouldn't let up. He hadn't told his older brother about using his powers. He knew how much Dean hated them and didn't want to bother him. If this was how much it hurt, he didn't think he'd be using them anytime soon anyway.

"Will they find the entrance?" Rachel asked. She hated sounding like a scared woman but the more she knew the less afraid she'd be. She hoped.

"I found out from the owners where it was otherwise I would have been searching for quite a while," Booth tried to assure them. He could see the borderline panic in Spencer's brown eyes and Rachel's. The others just looked very worried.

"Will the owners tell these guys about it?" Mike asked.

"I told them that there were moles in the Bureau. I told them that I was trying to keep you safe from unknown forces and that they couldn't trust anyone with your whereabouts but me," Booth admitted. He hadn't planned on speaking to the owners of the cabin, the Hendersons, but the shop keeper had insisted. Apparently this was a very close knit community. Everyone knew everyone else and knew where and when to expect each other. The appearance of the displaced people and the others hadn't gone unnoticed. Hopefully the other cottage owners had the sense to be discrete. They were placing their lives in their hands.

"Read too many spy novels, have we?" Nick asked. This all felt very surreal.

"I had to tell them something. Besides, it's pretty much the truth," Booth defended himself.

They continued to watch as more and more agents entered the cabin and began setting up equipment. "This could take a while," Booth muttered. Suddenly hiding down here didn't seem like such a good idea.


	34. Chapter 34

"What the hell do we do now?" Dean demanded. He was hovering over his brother. Watching the agents set up housekeeping right above them was driving him nuts. Anger thrummed through his body but he still talked in a soft voice. It was as if he thought that the agents were somehow going to hear them through the layers of concrete.

"We wait," Booth said. There was really no other option. Even if the agents found the Land Rover, which they were most likely to do, they would be unable to find the group hiding beneath their feet. That is if the home owners keep their mouths shut.

"Brilliant plan," Mack growled. He hated feeling trapped. At the moment he felt remarkably like a lion in a cage. Not normally a particularly cheerful person, Mack's mood was rapidly deteriorating. Why had he let the younger man trap them here in the first place? Frustrated, he moved over to a chair and collapsed into it.

"It beats the alternative," Mike supplied. The engineer found it very hard to pull his eyes away from the television screens. It was kind of like watching a train wreck. The more agents that came into the cabin the harder he was finding it to breath.

"That's for sure," Rachel agreed. Full of nervous energy, she had begun to pace around the common area. The kitchen was off to her right, the living room to her left. Straight ahead was a hallway that appeared to lead to bedrooms and the bathroom. Behind her was the entrance to the shelter. Pacing over to the kitchen, she quickly opened cupboards to see what was there. They were going to have lots of dried food to be reconstituted.

Rachel left the others in the living room watching the monitors. Still pacing she made her way down the hallway, opening each door as she came to it. She found three bedrooms along the right wall. At the end of the hall was a bathroom, complete with separate shower and bath tub. The doors on the left side revealed a store room, an exercise room and a room with a large tank.

Suddenly feeling a little uneasy, Rachel carefully closed the door behind her and padded toward the living room. As she went the ground momentarily shifted, once again she had double vision and was seeing the cement floor and her parents' carpet. Momentarily disorientated, Rachel stumbled but managed to stay on her feet. Wiping a hand across her eyes, she opened them to find only the floor she was standing on in front of her. What the hell was going on, she wondered.

"Well, we appear to be here for a while," Booth was saying as Rachel rejoined the group. Unsure of what else to do, Rachel slid onto the bench beside Spencer. The young man was trying desperately to stay awake but as she watched his head slowly lowered until it rested on his crossed arms on top of the table. Absently, she placed a hand on his back and began to gently rub it. In moments, Reid was breathing deeply as he succumbed to sleep once again.

"Well, if we're going to be here for a while we ought to get the wounded set up in the bedrooms," Johnny suggested. He'd seen Spencer give in to his exhaustion. From the pallor of Roy and Sam's faces they weren't going to be able to stay awake for much longer either. Bob was holding up better than the other three, at least for the moment. The younger paramedic just assumed that there would be bedrooms. What would a fallout shelter be without them?

"That's probably a very good idea," Roy murmured. His strength was evaporating quickly.

The next few hours passed quickly. The group did a more thorough exam of the shelter and set the injured up in one of the bedrooms. Each room had three bunk beds on two of the walls. Apparently the owners were planning on having quite a few people staying here. Well, at least it served their purposes. Johnny stayed in the room with the injured. He had learned to not separate them. Distance meant too much transit time.

"I'd take a knockdown, drag-out demon hunt over this crap any day," Dean growled as he took up a position beside Sam's bed. Sam was scaring the shit out of him. His younger brother had tried to hide the bleeding nose that had started just before they'd headed down here. Bleeding noses for Sam usually meant he'd been using his powers. Using his powers also mean that he would have a pounding headache. Well, that would explain some of his symptoms but it didn't make Dean any happier. Mostly because it meant there was absolutely nothing he could do for his younger brother. Dean really hated that.

Johnny had made sure they were all comfortable before turning his attention to Roy. His partner had been far too quiet. It made him nervous. Clearly the knock in the head was causing Roy more problems than he'd let on. Kneeling down beside Roy's bunk, Johnny caught hold of his wrist and began taking his vital signs.

"I'm fine, Junior," Roy mumbled at him. Now that he was horizontal again sleep was steeling over the senior paramedic rapidly. He didn't mind so much because Johnny was here to take care of the others and they had nowhere to go.

"Let me be the judge of that," Johnny responded. Roy's pulse was steady but a bit on the fast side.

"Do you think Joanne knows that I'm okay?" Roy asked. The thought of his wife and children almost brought him to full alert. Almost. A heartbeat later though, his blue eyes were sliding shut again.

"I'm sure she does, Roy," Johnny lied. That was the last thing Roy needed to be worried about in their present situation. Giving in completely, Roy fell into a deep healing sleep.

"We have enough water to last us for decades," Mike stated. He'd spent the last several minutes going through the controls on the wall of the living room. Underneath them was a vast tank of water. There was a filtration system to recycle waste water with as well as a holding tank for deeply contaminated water. Bob and Mack were in the living room as well, checking the gauges over themselves. The younger engineer didn't mind them looking at them as well. Three sets of eyes were frequently better than one.

"Hopefully we won't be here that long," Bob muttered. The over head lights were fluorescent. Never one to spend any more time indoors than absolutely necessary, the youngest Unit member found that he was developing a headache from the artificial illumination. It was his team's job to make sure that no one would ever have to spend an extended amount of time in one of these things. It seemed vaguely ironic. If his side didn't hurt as badly as it did, he'd have laughed.

"Amen to that," Booth said. He'd spent the time watching the other agents set up their command post. He all ready knew that they were dealing with a secret sect of the government. As he watched the equipment they were pulling out, Booth got the queasy feeling that they were military in nature. The electronics he saw on the screens were unlike any he'd seen within his own offices at the FBI.

"I've never seen anything like the stuff these guys are setting up. You're from the future, what do you think?" Booth asked, indicating the two military men. They were more likely to figure out the purpose to some of the electronics than he was.

Moving back over to the monitor, Bob sat down on one of the two chairs and leaned in to get a better look. He was well acquainted with most of the military hardware they used on a daily basis and other hardware that they only got to play with once in a while. None of this looked anything like those. Then something caught his eye. It looked suspiciously like a laptop but was nearly ten times the size of the earliest ones he'd seen.

One of the agents was connecting wires to the laptop. The camera angle wasn't quite right so he couldn't tell where the wires went. Bob decided to make sure either himself or Mack was watching the monitors at all times. They needed to figure out who these people were and what they had planned.

"Is that a laptop?" Nick asked quietly. He was leaning over Bob's shoulder. At the moment there didn't seem to be anything else to do.

"I'm not sure," Bob admitted. He'd almost forgotten about the CSI. The man had been so quiet.

"What the hell is going on here? There's no way they should have anything even close to that kind of technology yet," Nick said. His eyes were riveted to the screen. Something very strange was going on here. But then, the whole thing had been strange from the get go.

"Your guess is as good as mine at the moment," Bob said. A glance passed between Bob and Mack. Silently they agreed that they were going to find out.


	35. Chapter 35

_Thank you to everyone who has been sticking around for this story. I finally had a bit of inspiration but unfortunately Roy, Johnny and Mike aren't in this chapter much. I promise I'll do better on the next one!_

_Thanks again._

_Susanne_

"Have you had any trouble with double vision lately?" Rachel asked. She was sitting at the kitchen table with Nick. It was about eight o'clock in the morning. Mack and Booth had stayed awake all night watching the monitors while the rest of them bedded down for the night.

"No. Why?" Nick asked. The two of them were eating some cold cereal with powdered milk. Not the most appetizing way to start the day but it beat starving.

"I don't know. Twice now I've see both the floor I was walking on and my parents' carpet back home superimposed over each other. It only lasted for a few seconds. Part of me is hoping it means I'll be going home soon," Rachel stated. She was careful to not lift her eyes from the bowl of soggy cereal in front of her. Oh, how she wanted to go home!

"I haven't experienced anything like that. Even when I appeared here I was just suddenly standing on the street. What were you doing before you came here?" Nick asked. The thought was intriguing.

"The last thing I remember at home was going to bed. Then I woke up on the streets of LA," Rachel responded. A shiver passed up her spine at the memories of those first few desperate hours.

Further discussion was interrupted by the arrival of Spencer. The tall young man was walking a little stiffly as he made his way along the hallway. His hair was messy, his large brown eyes were still a little sleepy and his complexion was a little less pale than the day before.

"Morning," Nick and Rachel chorused almost simultaneously. Rachel was relieved to see him up and about.

"Would you like some cereal?" she asked as she stood up to put her dish in the sink. Rachel had suddenly lost her appetite.

"Cereal would be fine," Spencer answered as he slipped into the spot she had just vacated. The trip from the bedroom had been a slow one. The biopsy marks were feeling particularly sore and stiff today. He was grateful that they had someplace to lie low for the day. The young genius figured Sam was going to be feeling about the same.

Happy for something to do, Rachel reconstituted some more milk and filled a bowl with the slightly stale cereal. She pulled a spoon out of the drawer and carried the bowl and utensil over to the table. Rachel set them down in front of Spencer and made a hasty retreat toward the living area and the monitors.

"How did you sleep?" Nick asked. He was concerned for the younger man. There wasn't much meat on his bones for them to have been taking samples of. He could see that Spencer's face was still pale and his brown eyes had a bit of a haunted look to them. Nick could imagine pretty much anything humans could do to each other. It came with the job but the thought of it happening to the man in front of him infuriated him.

"Fine," Spencer said, not bothering to look up from the bowl in front of him. He was slowly spooning the wet food into his mouth. It took more strength than he thought he had to just chew it and swallow. "How about you?"

"As well as I could given the circumstances," Nick replied. "I'm too used to my own bed."

"Yes, I have that problem too," Spencer said. In actual fact, the BAU agent spent more time sleeping in hotel room beds than his own. It was an occupational hazard. The BAU flew all over the country to help solve crimes. Spencer wasn't even sure he could pick his bed out of a line up.

"What are we going to do now?" Nick asked somewhat rhetorically. He knew Spencer had about the same information as he did. He didn't really expect an answer because he didn't have one.

"Well," Spencer said, suddenly feeling a little more like his usual self. "We could stay here until the agents upstairs get tired of looking for us or they find us. We could also try to sneak out at night while there are fewer agents about. I don't think either plan has a very high probability of success."

"I've been thinking," Nick stated, looking at the younger man intently. Reid had finally lifted his head and was studying the CSI as well. "There are a lot of supplies in here. Do you think they brought them all in by the hatch? It seems more likely that there is some kind of a service entrance that they later buried or dismantled. Maybe we can find it."

Spencer was completely floored that he hadn't come to the same conclusion himself. It just proved to him that he was not functioning at one hundred percent. "The most likely place for something like that would be at the back of the shelter or the front. We've seen the front, maybe we should start in the back."

Suddenly the food didn't seem quite as important as Spencer pried his protesting body out of the seat and set off to follow Nick. It felt good to be doing something proactive about their situation instead of simply reacting as things happened.

The back of the shelter didn't yield any signs of an entrance. Spencer was beginning to give up hope when Nick found the tank room. Opening the door, the CSI led the way as they entered the large room. Spencer found the light switch and flicked it on so they could search easier.

"Well, things aren't looking all that positive right now," Nick said as he gazed around the cement room. He missed his flashlights. The CSI was used to always having a flash light in hand when doing a search. He felt decidedly naked without them. The tank took up most of the area of the room except for the scaffolding that ran from one side to the other. The scaffolding ran above a large valve and some very large piping.

"What's that?" Spencer said as he pointed into the far corner of the ceiling. The light didn't reach it properly but he could swear he saw the outline of a trap door. The corner was one of the few places the tank wasn't below.

"I'm not sure," Nick replied as he padded over to the area in question. In the dim light he could barely make out the lines of a large trap door. The door itself was just above the scaffolding before it turned into stairs to reach the floor. Quickly, Nick climbed the nearest set of stairs and tried to reach the door but he was just about three feet short.

"Are there any ladders in here?" Nick called down to Spencer who was hovering below him. "I can't reach it but I think you're right. There seems to be a trap door here. A large one."

"I'll go see if I can find one," Spencer said as he headed out of the room. Outside the door he just about ran into Dean and Sam who'd exited the bedroom and were headed toward the kitchen.

"What's up, Spencer?" Sam asked. His voice was tired and his eyes even more so but at least he was vertical.

"I need a flashlight and a ladder," Spencer said, nearly out of breath. His weakness was starting to catch up with him. "Nick thinks he's found a service entrance in the back of this room."

"Really?" Dean said eagerly. He desperately wanted to get out of this hole. He turned to his brother. "Will you be okay if I go look for the things Nick needs?"

"I'm fine, Dean," Sam responded, scorn dripping from every word. Sam loved his brother but he really could be too damned over protective sometimes. The headache had diminished during the night. Now all Sam really had to contend with were stiff, sore muscles from having the biopsies taken.

"You sure?" Dean asked. He was hesitant to leave his brother alone. He could see the frustration on Sam's face but he couldn't help it. It was the way he was wired.

"Go," Sam growled as he headed down the hallway. All he really wanted at the moment was breakfast. Anything that didn't move too fast would do he was so hungry.

"I'll look for the ladder and flashlight. You should maybe go get some breakfast too. You look a little worn out," Dean suggested. He really didn't want to have to deal with the younger man any more than necessary. Spencer kind of freaked him out. The boy was far too smart for Dean's liking. Besides, he really did look like he could use something to eat. Reid was far too skinny as well.

"Sure," Spencer said, the wind taken out of his sails. He wasn't too sure how he was going to get the ladder to Nick in the first place. He was still feeling far too weak for that. But it felt kind of like he was being shuffled to the side. Not a very logical reaction. Clearly Dean was the one to be the most help to Nick. "He's in the tank room."

"Yeah, I kind of got that but thanks," Dean responded as he headed for the storage room. It seemed like the most likely place to find a ladder. He left Spencer in the hallway. Suddenly, feeling very tired Spencer headed back to the kitchen. Maybe his cereal wouldn't be too mushy by now.

In the storage room, Dean found a six foot A ladder and a large flashlight. Shouldering the ladder, he caught hold of the flashlight and left the room.

"Where do you think that thing goes?" Dean asked as he climbed the scaffold. Nick was standing below the dim outline, staring up at it intently.

"I'm hoping it'll lead beyond the cabin, out in the woods somewhere," Nick responded, hiding his surprise at finding the elder Winchester standing beside him and not Spencer.

"Well, let's find out," Dean said as he set up the ladder and handed Nick the flashlight. After all, it was Nick's discovery. He should be the first one in.

"Well, here goes nothing," Nick said as he climbed the ladder and turned the flashlight on. Sure enough, in the incandescent beam he found the distinct edges of a door. Also in the beam he saw a recessed handle. Reaching up for it, he carefully pulled it down.

The inside of the door was pitch black but by shining the beam upwards, Nick could clearly make out metal rungs leading upward for the first five feet and then the tunnel seemed to branch off. "I can't see where it ends," Nick said to Dean was he pulled away from the hole. He didn't want to take the chance that sound would carry upstairs. "I'm going to have to go up inside it to find out where it goes."

"Let's not just rush in there all willy nilly," Dean said. As much as he hated to admit it, there were others among the group who were better equipped to deal with the agents upstairs. Besides, he didn't want to leave Sam down here alone if he could help it. "Let's get the others together and come up with a plan."

Nick hesitated. He really wanted to find out where this went. He was starting to feel a little claustrophobic again. But he recognized the logic in Dean's suggestion. Besides, he didn't plan on going up there unarmed. The CSI had the feeling the agents wouldn't hesitate to shoot at them.

"Okay," Nick said. "Let's get everyone together."

Ten minutes later, all of the group were gathered in the kitchen. Roy was looking a little blurry but Johnny was very much awake. Bob, Mack and Booth hung to the back of the group, closest to the monitors, just in case.

"So, what's going on?" Booth asked. He'd been too busy watching the monitors to pay attention to the others. He knew the threat was going to come from above, not below.

"Nick and Spencer found a trap door in the tank room. We need to go check it out," Dean informed them.

"What?" Mack and Booth demanded at almost the same time. The two of them had thought they'd checked every nook and cranny of this place since they'd climbed down here. They hated to think that they might have missed something.

"Come here," Nick said. As a group they trooped to the tank room and the ladder on the scaffolding.

"I'll be damned," Bob breathed. Hope was beginning to dawn on him again.

"I'll go up there," Johnny offered immediately. He was a fireman and was used to climbing around in ducts. There was more than once that he'd had to rescue a trapped cat or child. He wanted to get Roy and the others to the hospital as soon as he could. Even after a good night's sleep Roy was still groggy and not quite himself. Johnny was becoming very concerned about him.

"You need to stay here with the injured," Booth said. He knew the fireman was used to being a man of action but he would do more good making sure everyone was ready to move when they had the chance.

"I'll go," Mike volunteered. He was feeling useless. Johnny didn't really need him to help with Roy and the others and Booth, Mack and Bob had taken over the monitors. Mike too was a fire fighter and used to being in the thick of it, even being an engineer.

Mack had climbed the ladder and was shining the flashlight inside. "I think we're going to need two teams of two. The tunnel ends in a T. We need to see what's at both ends of it as fast as we can."

"Sounds good to me," Booth said as he glanced around at the others. Dean was hovering by his brother, clearly indicating he didn't want to be involved. That left Mike, Mack, Rachel, Nick and himself. Glancing at Rachel out of the corner of his eye, Booth decided to leave Rachel. She would be of more help to Johnny anyway.

"Okay. I'll take Mike. Mack, you take Nick. We'll keep silent and return to the top of the T in half an hour. That should give us lots of time to find out where this thing leads," Booth instructed. He just assumed the others would follow. A quick look passed between Mack and Bob before Mack nodded his acceptance. Mike and Nick didn't bother checking with anyone else. Rachel disappeared for a few moments while the men checked their weapons before heading up.

"Here," Rachel said, handing over three more flash lights. The last thing they needed was for them to get lost out there.

"Thanks," Booth said, looking a little chagrined. Why hadn't he thought of that? "Everyone ready?"

Three heads nodded and then Booth and Mike were climbing up the ladder and into the tunnel.


	36. Chapter 36

"What do we do now?" Rachel asked. She was getting really sick of that question. She was sure the others were getting sick of hearing it but she couldn't help herself.

"Well," Johnny said, stalling. He looked at Roy, then Sam, Bob and Spencer.

"Will you stay here to watch out for them?" Johnny asked, staring hard at Dean. He knew how much the brothers hated to be separated.

Dean's instinctual reaction was to stay by his brother's side. Sam wasn't a hundred percent. He suspected that it had almost as much to do with him using his powers as with the abuse he'd suffered at the hands of the agents. Sam was trying to hide it but he could see how much just this little bit of movement and excitement had started to wear him out. The sooner they got out of here, preferably in their own time, the better.

"Okay," Dean said stepping forward. "Bob, could you watch the monitors? I want to know if they start to get suspicious."

"Sure," Bob responded as he left the room. That was where he was planning on going anyway. For exactly the reason Dean had suggested.

"Thanks," Johnny said feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted off of him. All he really wanted to deal with at the moment was Roy. He was deeply concerned about his partner. "Rachel, can you bring the others along?"

"Okay," Rachel responded. As she watched, Johnny started herding Roy toward the bedroom. Sam hesitated. He hated to leave his brother without back up. It was one lesson their father had drilled into their heads. They always watched each other's backs. He barely managed to stifle a jump when Rachel laid a hand on his back and tried to subtly guide him out of the room. "He'll let us know if anything comes up," she tried to reassure him.

For her part Rachel felt a little silly. Here she was trying to force a man a good foot taller than her to move. If he decided he wanted to stay with his brother there wasn't a whole lot she could do about it. Relief flowed through her was she felt Sam take a step toward the door. Once she knew Sam was moving, she turned her attention to Spencer.

The young genius was standing at the bottom of the tank looking up toward the hole. It almost seemed as though he could see beyond the darkness to that was going on in its depths. He was so intent on watching where the others had gone that she hesitated to touch him. Truth be told, she hesitated to touch him anyway. She wasn't a touchy-feely type person.

"How are you feeling?" she asked quietly.

"Hmm?" Spencer replied. He had to tear his eyes away from the hatch. His mind had been sifting through all of the information he'd ever read about bomb shelters and ventilation systems. Nothing had been particularly helpful. "Oh, I'm fine."

"Yeah, you look fine," Rachel responded sarcastically. "We should go to the bedroom so Johnny can check you over."

"I'm fine," Spencer reiterated. He wasn't sure if the woman had heard him or was just ignoring him.

"Please, Spencer. If they do find a way out we're going to need all the energy we can muster. You'd better serve yourself and us if you rested while you can," Rachel insisted.

Spencer looked at her. Behind his brown eyes she could see that he was thinking very hard. So hard in fact that he wasn't really aware of what was going on around him. Distantly she wondered if this happened a lot. With a slight nod, he took a step toward the door. Rachel followed him as they shadowed Sam into the bedroom.

"I'm fine," Roy was saying as they stepped inside the door. Roy was sitting on the big padded chair in the corner. His elbows were resting on his knees and his head was hanging down between his shoulders. From her position by the door Rachel thought that his blue eyes were shut. Clearly Roy was lying.

"No, Roy, you're not. You have a bad concussion. I need to check your vitals and make sure things aren't getting worse," Johnny tried to reason with him. The fact that Roy was arguing with him indicated to him just how impaired his partner's judgement was. Fear began burning in Johnny's belly. Feeling helpless and frustrated, he glanced at the others as they entered the room.

Sam was concerned for Roy, the man had been nothing but nice to him, but at the moment his bed just looked too damned inviting. Giving into the headache and other aches and pains, the youngest Winchester meandered over to his bed and collapsed into it. As soon as his head hit the pillow, Sam's eyes closed but he stayed aware long enough to hear Spencer climb into the bed above him. The oblivion took him.

"I'm fine," Roy growled. It was the first time Rachel had heard the man lose his temper. Things were definitely wrong.

Ignoring his partner's protests, Johnny began taking his vitals. Roy lifted his head up to watch. Rachel was sure those blue depths didn't seem to be focusing very well. A frown was quirking Johnny's mouth downward in the corners as he got his results. Even she could tell he wasn't happy with what he was finding.

"Do you need anything?" Rachel asked. Damn but she hated feeling useless.

"Water for him to drink and maybe some food," Johnny replied automatically. He was checking Roy's pupils and coming to the same conclusions as Rachel had at a distance.

"All right, I'll be back in a minute or two," Rachel responded. Then she headed out the door and toward the kitchen.

"Have you seen anything?" Rachel asked as she walked by Bob at the monitors.

"Not really. They keep coming and going but so far there isn't any indication of alarm," the military man answered. He didn't bother to look up from the flickering television screens. He knew who it was that was walking by him.

"That's good. The last thing they need is for someone to notice them in those narrow ducts," Rachel responded as she filled a pitcher with cold water and slipped a couple of plastic cups into her back pocket. Then she tried to round up some food. The very thought of being trapped in the ductwork sent a chill up her spine.

It was all Mack could do to keep from laughing out loud. As it was he had to plaster his palm across his mouth to keep any sound from escaping. Just behind him, Mack could feel Nick's presence.

"What's going on?" Nick breathed into his ear. The two of them had reached the end of their duct and were spying on the agents beyond the grillwork. They were situated just above the main table where the 'laptop' was located.

"We thought it was a laptop," Mack replied just as quietly. "It's some kind of a code box. They're using it to encrypt messages. That thing is massive!"

Glancing over Mack's shoulder, Nick spied the piece of equipment. Sure enough, it did look like a laptop from a distance. That was until he looked closer at the manual typewriter type keys on the front of it. The CSI could see Mack's shoulders shaking in silent laughter.

Not quite catching the joke, Nick quietly turned his body around in the duct and began to make his way to the last branch. They'd chosen to go straight ahead until they reached the end. Then they planned on going back to check out the other trunks of the ductwork. The branches were slightly smaller in width so Nick wasn't really looking forward to it. While Nick's waist and legs were fairly small, his shoulders were broad. The idea of getting stuck wouldn't quite go away.

Behind Nick as he shuffled back through the duct, he could feel Mack following. They were going to have to split up to finish the search but that was okay. It would get done faster that way. The sooner Nick could get out of these dark confines the better. The time he was entombed in a glass box, buried under the earth kept sneaking in on him. If Nick wasn't careful he would begin to hyperventilate as the memories crashed down on him. He also suffered from a tremendous need to rub at his arms and legs, knocking imaginary fire ants off his body.

Taking a deep breath and swallowing his fear, Nick took the first right he came to. The sooner he found out what was at the end of it the sooner he could get back to the relatively fresh air of the bomb shelter.

At first Nick had wondered about the rationale of having the ducts lead to the outside. The idea of the bomb shelter was to protect against radioactive contamination. If the vents led to the cabin and the fresh air beyond, didn't that result in exposure? Then they'd found the thick lead doors that could be sealed in place. Clearly the builders had planned for every eventuality.

"Well, I guess we found the way out," Booth said. Beyond the metal grate he was crouched in front of was the green world of the forest. They'd also found thick lead doors that could be pulled into place. The FBI agent assumed the owners of the cabin and shelter were well aware of the need to close them. Until they had to though, they might as well enjoy the fresh air while they had it.

"Where exactly are we?" Mike asked from behind him. Over the taller man's hunched body the engineer could see the sunlight shining on green leaves. That was about it though. Booth was not a small man and tended to hide most of the view.

"I'm not really sure," Booth admitted as he examined the scene before him. "I've spent some time camping up in these hills but not enough to know my way around by heart. As near as I can tell we're about a mile north of the cabin."

Mike supposed that made sense. There was no use building the ventilation system too close to the lake where it would be susceptible to cave-ins or infiltration from the water. He tried to create a mental picture of where they were based on the information he had. Unfortunately that didn't really help Mike much. Why couldn't they have gotten kidnapped in the areas of Los Angeles he knew?

"Come on. We'd better head back before they start to worry about us," Booth suggested. He had to wait while Mike slowly and carefully turned his body around in the narrow space before he too could get properly turned around.

"Well?" Dean demanded as Mack and Nick climbed down the ladder. Both men were filthy and sweaty. Clearly climb around the ducts wasn't a whole lot of fun. Dean couldn't seem to muster much sympathy though. He just wanted to get back to his brother.

"There's no way out from the section we followed," Mack informed the young hunter as he absently brushed dirt off his knees. His hands were dirtier than the material of his jeans making it a futile effort.

"Hopefully Booth and Mike had better luck," Nick said. All he really wanted at the moment was a nice hot shower.

"Well, go get cleaned up. I'll watch for the other two," Dean instructed.

Rachel had returned to the bedroom. Unsure of what Johnny had meant by 'food', she'd made a selection of sandwiches. "Here you go," she said as she carefully set the tray with the food and the water down.

"Thank you," Johnny breathed as he scooped the top-most sandwich and handed it to his partner. One whiff of the peanut butter slathered between the pieces of breath and Roy's stomach rolled. He tried to push it away before he emptied his stomach on the floor in front of him.

"You have to eat," Johnny ordered. He could see how green Roy had become but his partner really did need to get something into his body. The last few days had been too hard on him. His body needed reserve energy if they were going to get out of this. Johnny pushed the fragrant meal back at Roy.

"I'm really not hungry," Roy insisted as he sat back in the chair in an attempt to evade the food. The smell was doing nothing to calm his queasy stomach.

"I don't care," Johnny growled. "You need to eat."

Somewhat amused by the conversation, Rachel was hanging around by the door. One second she was watching the by-play between the two men. The next she felt the world shift under her feet. Startled, Rachel reached for the door frame to keep from losing her balance. A gasp escaped as the cement floor was again superimposed on top of her parents' carpet.

"Are you okay?" she heard Johnny ask from what seemed like a great distance. Looking up in the direction of the paramedic's voice she saw the bay window in the living room of her parents' house. Shaking with the need to go home, Rachel didn't get a chance to respond. She pitched forward onto her face in a dead faint.

"What the hell?" Johnny breathed. Disbelieving what he'd just witnessed the youngest paramedic rubbed at his eyes before looking again. Where Rachel had stood just a few moments ago was now empty. There was absolutely no sign that the woman had even been there. The sandwich was placed on the arm of Roy's chair as Johnny sprinted to the door. Opening it, he looked beyond. Maybe Rachel had left when he wasn't looking. Unlikely but it made more sense than her disappearing into thin air.

"What?" Roy asked. He pushed the sandwich as far away as he could without throwing it on the ground. They were going to need all the food they had if they were stuck down here. In his preoccupation with his stomach, Roy hadn't noticed Rachel's departure. Not getting an answer, he looked up at his junior partner.

"She vanished," Johnny said more to himself than to Roy. Quickly he looked around for Sam and Spencer. He was relieved to find both men sleeping quietly in their beds.

"What do you mean 'she vanished'?" Roy asked. His stomach was forgotten. He pried his protesting body out of the chair and padded over to where Johnny stood, looking up and down the hallway.

"I suppose it makes some kind of sense," Johnny continued. He hadn't really heard Roy. He was trying to figure this whole thing out on his own. "She was the first one to appear. It makes sense that she would be the first one to leave. Right?"

"What are you going on about, Junior?" Roy asked. He still wasn't too clear on what had his partner so excited. Obviously Rachel had just left the room on another errand. That seemed to be her favourite occupation.

"Rachel. She's gone. One second she was here and then she was gone," Johnny said. He finally turned away from the open door to look at his partner. "I think she went home."


	37. Chapter 37

_Happy Easter everyone!! I hope you're enjoying way too much chocolate!_

_This chapter is longer than I'd intended. But then, I really didn't plan on finishing this story any time soon. The ending is rather anticlimactic. For the life of me I couldn't come up with a plausible explanation for all of these people being here other than the fact that I wanted to see what would happen. I'm sorry if it disappoints you. Let me know and I'll see what else I could come up with._

_Thank you to everyone who has stuck by me on this one. It was an odd story to start with and didn't improve much with age!! _

_I hope you enjoy it._

_Susanne_

After the initial uproar calmed, the group of men stood or sat around and looked at each other. The most prevalent expression was one of shock. Bob had noticed the noise and come to investigate. He was startled to realize that the woman was gone. So much so, that the arrival of the people from the ducts initially went unnoticed.

"What the hell is going on?" Booth demanded in as loud as he felt comfortable. Silence filled the bedroom and all eyes turned toward the door way where Booth, Mike, Nick, Dean and Mack stood.

"Rachel has disappeared," Johnny admitted as he stepped away from the small huddle that had developed. Even Sam and Spencer were now up and out of bed.

"What do you mean 'disappeared?" Nick demanded. A slight sense of panic threatened. He'd only been here for a very short time before Rachel had found him. The idea of being alone, without even Grissom, kind of terrified him. Quickly he tried to squash the emotion.

"That's just it. One second she was here and the next she was gone," Johnny replied. He'd gone back to hovering over Roy. His partner was keenly aware of what was going on but so far Roy hadn't gotten to his feet. Johnny suspected he was suffering from bouts of nausea but Roy wasn't admitting to anything.

"She mentioned this morning she was starting to see things," Nick said more to himself than anyone.

"Rachel said she saw her parents' floor superimposed over the floor here. That could be an indication that whatever brought us here is starting to weaken. Perhaps we will return to our own places and times soon," Spencer stated. The thought was a happy one. The young genius was used to his coworkers and they were used to him. Here, especially without Rachel as a bit of a buffer, he knew that the others thought him very odd. Spencer supposed that by this point in his life he should be more used to the reaction. Somehow, it still hurt and put him on edge, further aggravating his lack of social skills.

"God, I hope so," Dean breathed. That was the best news he'd heard in a very long while. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed home. Well, the cruddy old motel rooms they usually called home for a day or two anyway. Here, in this time, all he and Sam had to worry about were psychotic government agents. So far nothing supernatural had happened to them. Well, except for appearing here anyway. The thought of what had been happening in their own time, how many supernatural entities had gone without being dealt with, had been playing at the back of his mind for a while. He glanced at his brother and was happy to see a little more color in Sam's face.

"Okay," Booth said, trying to rethink their situation. If the displaced people were going to keep disappearing, hopefully back to where they belonged, then they could just wait it out until they were all gone. The one problem with that plan was the senior paramedic. Even his inexperienced eyes could tell the man needed medical treatment. Clearly he had a suffered a head injury that his partner couldn't seem to help him with, at least not with the supplies they had.

"We know the way out," Mack stated. "We can wait and see if anyone else disappears, or whatever, before we make a break for it. One more day more or less isn't going to make much of a difference at this point. "

"I don't know if we can wait that long," Johnny interjected. He glanced at his partner. Roy glared at him but didn't bother to respond. Roy was getting tired of putting on the brave face. The nausea was back with a vengeance and his head felt like it was going to fall off. Or at least he wished it would.

"Can we put off leaving for one more day?" Booth asked. He wanted an honest opinion. If Roy was in bad enough shape that they had to pull him along the ventilation shaft he was making plans for that too.

Johnny hated the idea. But he supposed that so long as Roy rested, ate and drank that it would be okay. "Okay. But if Roy gets worse we need to get out of here," Johnny said feeling a little defeated.

"Deal," Booth agreed. "Since we're staying here I guess we might as well get a meal ready. I'm starving!" Without waiting for anyone, Booth headed for the bathroom. He needed to clean some of the dust from the ducts off before starting to cook. Cooking was something he enjoyed doing when he was in the mood. At the moment the mood had taken him.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl, especially for the displaced people. Every time Nick felt even slightly odd his heart jumped to his throat. Maybe it meant he was headed home! But six hours later all he felt was a little depressed. The meal had been wonderful, considering the supplies Booth had had to work with, but he missed Las Vegas. He missed his work and mostly he missed being alone.

Nick wasn't a loner, generally. But he was used to having time alone as well. He lived alone in his condo. He worked alone as often as he worked with other members of the lab. That suited him just fine. Being locked up with all these people in the firehouse and now this bomb shelter was starting to wear a little thin. Part of Nick was glad that Rachel had been the first one to go. He knew instinctively that the woman would have been going stir crazy by now.

Mack and Bob were still hovering around the monitors. They had the chance to watch their enemies. Neither one was willing to waste the chance. Johnny had made Roy stay in the bedroom, resting when he wasn't eating. Spencer spent most of his time just wandering around the shelter. He was feeling a little more like himself which only resulted in him feeling like a caged animal. The only one with similar nervous energy was Mike. The engineer found that he didn't mind the thin young man's company. He figured that had more to do with the fact that Spencer didn't say much, he just kept walking.

"So," Dean said. He and Sam were sitting in the tank room for want of a little privacy. Sam seemed a little more like himself. The little lines of pain were missing from the corners of his eyes and his mouth. Other than seeming a little tired he seemed to be getting over his earlier mistreatment. "Does this make any sense to you?"

"Nope. Can't say that it does," Sam admitted. He was sitting on the metal steps, his hands on the tread beside him and his head hanging a little between his shoulders. God he was tired!!

"How can she just disappear? There wasn't any sulphur to indicate it was a demon or any other sign of a supernatural occurrence. Did we really just fall through the rabbit hole?" Dean asked. His brother was the smart one of the group. If Sam couldn't figure it out without access to the internet they were hopelessly lost.

"I don't know, Dean," Sam said trying to hide the tinge of frustration. He knew his brother was hoping he had all the answers. Truth was he had absolutely no idea. None of this made any sense. There were no spells, demons or curses that he knew of that could cause what they'd been going through. "Maybe it is what it is. Maybe there isn't anything else to it."

"Well, that makes no sense at all!" Dean huffed as he sank down beside his brother. Before they could continue their conversation they heard Booth speaking loudly down the hallway.

"Guess we better go see what's going on," Sam said as he forced his tall frame off the step and onto his feet.

"This is really starting to get spooky," Booth said as they joined the others in the living room. "Nick's gone too. One second he was there the next he was gone, just like Rachel."

"But it hasn't been twenty four hours since Rachel disappeared," Johnny said. He'd let Roy come into the living room too. He had the sudden need to know where his partner was at all times, just in case he disappeared too. "She was here a lot longer than Nick from what I understand."

"Are there sun spots going on?" Dean asked suddenly, remembering a movie he'd watched once.

"This isn't 'Frequency', Dean," Sam said trying to hide the smile that wanted desperately to come out.

"Well, it's a thought," Dean grumbled.

Then Mack and Bob disappeared. At exactly the same time. There was an audible pop as air rushed in to fill the space where they had been standing.

"What the hell?" Dean breathed. Unconsciously he grabbed hold of his brother's arm. If he was going to disappear he wanted to make sure his brother went with him. Life without Sammy to watch over and have watch over him wasn't a life he was willing to contemplate.

A little scared, despite his best efforts, Johnny moved Roy and himself a step or two away from Spencer, Dean and Sam. They were the only ones left. As much as he was curious about where they were going, Johnny really didn't want to risk being sucked into whatever was moving them around. Mike and Booth also moved away. Just in case.

"How are you feeling?" Dean asked, looking at his brother expectantly. Maybe Sam was more sensitive to what was going on. For his part, Dean felt absolutely the same.

"Fine except I'm starting to lose feeling in my arm," Sam replied, looking down at his older brother.

"What's wrong with your arm?" Dean demanded, instantly concerned. He even took half a step back from Sam so he could get a better look at his 'little' brother.

"You're cutting off the circulation," Sam said, a smile playing on the corners of his mouth. "It's going to sleep."

"Oh," Dean replied, a slight blush colouring his cheeks and neck. "Sorry about that." Unwillingly, Dean released his brother's arm. Slightly.

Still feeling a little embarrassed, Dean looked at the other four men in the room. In a split second the expectant faces around him blurred then there was darkness. Then Bobby was standing above him, looking very concerned as he shook Dean's shoulder mercilessly.

"Hey, kid. Are you okay??" Bobby asked. As Dean watched, rendered momentarily mute in surprise, Bobby shifted his attention to something lying beside him. "Sam, hey, Sam! Wake up." All was right with the world.

By the time the firemen and FBI agent realized the Winchesters were gone, Spencer had disappeared too. The four men stood around, staring at each other in disbelief. "What the hell?" Booth said, unaware that he was echoing what Dean had said earlier.

"Did any of this happen?" Mike breathed as he looked around at the pale faces surrounding him. It almost felt as if his world was shifting under his feet. Not a sensation any person from California found particularly comforting.

"Based on the fact that we're still in this shelter, my first response would be 'yes'," Roy said. For some reason his head wasn't hurting quite as badly. Looking at the others in the room, they didn't appear to be pulsing with the beating of his heart and he didn't feel the need to stay close to the bathroom. Maybe things really were looking up.

"Well, I'll be damned," Mike said. In one sense he was glad for the displaced people to finally be home. In another sense, the young engineer was all ready feeling like his world was becoming a lot more mundane.

"Does this mean we can climb out of here?" Johnny asked. His first priority was getting Roy to a hospital. He'd prefer Rampart but any hospital would do at the moment.

Out of habit, Booth glanced at the monitors. He was used to seeing agents moving around between the different stations but mostly there was a general calm within the confines of the television screens. As he watched this time there seemed to be an air of urgency. Then he realized that the agents were packing their equipment up. On the central monitor Booth watched as the senior agent talked heatedly on the cabin phone. Clearly something was up.

"I think if we wait long enough we should be able to take the trap door out of here," Booth stated. For the first time since agreeing to help rescue Sam and Spencer, Booth could begin to see a future for himself within the FBI. Maybe his superiors would be a little more lenient now that the people were disappearing anyway. The government men who had been holding Sam and Spencer would have lost them whether he'd come to find them or not. They just might have suffered a little more poking and prodding. Booth was thankful that they hadn't been forced to bare any more of the government's attention.

"They're leaving?" Johnny asked moving over to look at the monitors himself. Sure enough, as he watched, two agents walked by carrying boxes of paperwork, headed for the door. Relief flowed through him. This finally seemed to be coming to an end.

"That's what it looks like," Booth said. "Let's just give them an hour and see what happens."

Slowly, Booth opened the door to the closet. Beyond he found nothing but the cabin. The agents had been very thorough and cleaned the place. If he hadn't watched them on the monitors, the FBI agent wouldn't have believed anyone but they had been there.

"Coast is clear," Booth said as he stepped out into the cabin. The whole thing was starting to feel like a bad dream. The three firemen followed him as he padded toward the door. With any luck the Land Rover would still be there.

"What happened?" Dixie said. She'd glanced up from her paperwork to find Johnny and Mike helping Roy down the hall toward her. It was a small world, she knew Roy and Mike had been kidnapped and Johnny had gone to try to find them. The last thing she expected to see today was the three firemen looking a little worse for wear, especially Roy.

"It's a long story, Dixie," Johnny said as they covered the last few feet to the nurse's station. "Roy has a head injury. I want to get him looked over before we head back to the station."

"I'm fine," Roy growled. "Dix, could you call Joanne and let her know I'm okay?"

"Sure thing, Roy, just as soon as you let Dr. Early examine you," Dixie responded, a slight smile on her face. She knew how much the senior paramedic hated to be examined. The man could withstand a great deal of pain before he'd admit anything was wrong.

"Fine," Roy said, visibly sagging in defeat. "Let's get this over with."

Several hours later Johnny and Joanne were finally allowed to visit Roy. Dr. Early had agreed with Johnny's diagnosis and had had to run several tests. At one point the doctor honestly thought he was going to perform surgery on Roy's head but luckily some of the swelling had gone down on its own.

After what felt like an eternity, the paramedic was moved into a private room. They'd first given Roy a sponge bath, for which Roy was extremely embarrassed. He'd had to admit, though, that the nurses and doctor were right, he'd started to smell. For the life of him, Roy couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd had a proper shower.

Rushing into the room, Joanne went instantly to her husband's side. Outside the door two police detectives were waiting to speak to the senior paramedic. They were still trying to figure out who'd kidnapped him. Mike and Johnny had all ready had to spend far too much time answering the men's questions. After the questions, Mike had headed back to the station since no one seemed inclined to stop him.

"How you feeling, partner?" Johnny asked as he moved over to the other side of the bed. It was so good to see Roy lying quietly under the white sheets. He knew it was driving his partner to distraction but he felt so much better knowing Roy had been properly examined. He watched as Roy took his wife's hand before bothering to answer.

"About the same as I did before you dragged me in here, junior," Roy responded. Joanne stood beside him, silent tears running down her face and a huge smile plastered on her features. Words weren't necessary between the two. They were just so grateful to be together, nothing else really mattered much.

"Well, at least now I know your head isn't going to explode," Johnny said trying to hide the glee from his voice and face.

"I could have told you that," Roy responded. It took everything he had to pull his eyes away from his wife's face. "How are the others?"

"By 'others' do you mean the displaced people? Well, apparently they've been disappearing all over the city. At last count, two hours ago, only ten were left."

"That's a relief," Roy said. For some reason he was suddenly feeling very tired. As much as he wanted to spend eternity staring at his bride, Roy's eyelids kept sliding shut over his blue eyes. Despite a gallant effort, within a few heartbeats, they didn't open again.

"I think I'd better head to the station. I'm sure Battalion would like a few words with me. Let me know if anything changes, okay?" Johnny asked as he moved around the bed and gently placed a hand on Joanne's nearest shoulder. He knew the woman wasn't going anywhere.

"Sure thing," she responded not bothering to rip her eyes off Roy's sleeping face. She still held his hand, needing some form of physical contact to confirm that he really was there.

Satisfied, Johnny headed for the door. Before he got there though, he was stopped by Joanne's gentle voice. "Thank you for bringing him home." Grinning, he pulled the door open and slid through. On the other side, he informed the two police officers that Roy was sleeping so they'd have to come back again later. Then he walked quickly down the hallway. He had a lot more explaining to do.

"You look like crap, Gage," Chet remarked as the young paramedic slipped in the side door. He'd had to take a taxi back to the station. Luckily the driver was willing to bill it to the Los Angeles County Fire Department. Johnny hadn't had any money on him. Weary beyond words, Johnny glanced at the dark haired fireman as he made his way across the dayroom. It took him nearly the full length before he realized that all the cots were gone and the only person standing within its confines was Chet. "Where is everyone?"

"Cap, Marco and the replacements are in the garage running hose. I get to make supper. I hope you appreciate this. Today was your turn," Chet said. As much as he griped, it really did feel good to see the younger paramedic. Life was too boring without him around for comic relief.

"The others are all gone?" Johnny paused at the door long enough to ask. All he really wanted was a shower and clean clothes.

"Yep, came down from Battalion half an hour ago. The city's all ours again," Chet replied. For the first time Johnny caught a whiff of whatever concoction the fireman was trying to cook. As hungry as Johnny was, he made a mental note to wait until he was on his way home to stop for a burger.

"Thanks," Johnny said as he pushed the door open and stepped into the garage. Within seconds he was surrounded by men in dark blue and a barrage of questions shot at him. Holding up a hand, Johnny took a step back and waited for the general noise to lessen.

"Gage, report to my office," Captain Stanley ordered into the silence that followed. Johnny was going to have to tell his story several times but first he was going to have to tell it to his captain.

Three days later the firemen of A shift arrived at the station to begin their shift. Roy had been cleared to return to work and the detectives were as happy as they were going to get with the three firemen's stories. The fact that Agent Booth backed everything they'd said certainly helped.

"How's the head, Roy?" Stanley asked at roll call. All five members of his shift were lined up in the garage, standing at attention. Johnny was standing beside his partner looking much more rested than the last time he'd seen him. Mike was on the end of the line also looking significantly better.

The captain of A shift was grateful beyond words to see the senior paramedic in his blue fireman uniform. The world was finally beginning to fall back into place.

"A little harder than usual but I'll live, Cap," Roy responded. It felt so very good to be back on the job. It was almost like the last several days had never happened. If he tried to not think about it too hard he could almost believe the fantasy. Then he remembered Grissom and Rachel and the others. There were some of them that he found he truly missed.

"That's good to hear, Roy. Let's get back to work," Hank said.

"Amen to that, Cap," Chet said. "Amen to that."

The End.


End file.
